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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27367090">Castles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragem/pseuds/Aragem'>Aragem</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Helluva Boss (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Blood and Violence, Car Chases, Domestic Violence, F/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Psychological Torture, Torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:47:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27367090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragem/pseuds/Aragem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When a Sinner steals the Grimoire from I.M.P., he leads them on a chase across the United States to get the book back before Stolas finds out.  However, their quarry is determine and dangerous.</p><p>For Sneak peeks, updates, and more follow me on Tumblr and Twitter under RebelCourtesan</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Client</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Commissioned artwork of Danny by @GothGirlWannabe</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“Ever been in love?”</p><p>Oh god, why did clients feel the need to explain themselves?  Like they needed his approval to want some fuck in the living world dead?</p><p>Blitzo set his boots on the desk and stretched out to get comfortable for an unwanted storytime. “Can’t really say I have …. unless you count the first time I saw Spirit. Now that’s a classic to last all ages.”</p><p>“I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout material shit or films,” the client muttered, many sets of eyes glinting annoyed at him through a heavy haze of smoke.  “I mean fallin’ in love with someone.”</p><p>The client was the usual Sinner, a human that died in the living world and resurrected as a demon in Hell.  This one was a lanky spider demon well over seven feet tall with chestnut brown fur. Pale icy blue eyes gleamed from his dark face like distant stars.  Two large prominent eyes peered at him while smaller orbs glanced about the office. The spider wore a dark suit, opened to reveal a white undershoot, and a loose crimson tie that hung down his middle.  His long legs ended in thick combat boots customized for his unique leg and foot shape.</p><p>“I fell in love twice.  The first time was with my wife.  Met her at a bar a few miles from the training base I was stationed at.  Sweet as sugar, pretty as an angel, and voice as soft as a bell.  I married that girl a month later.  Two years later, I fell in love again with my baby girl, Anna.”</p><p>“You’re talkin’ a lot about your family and not the dumbshit ya want us to off for ya,” Blitzo said, wanting to bring this meeting to a head.  </p><p>“I was just getting to that,” the spider shot him a cold look.  “We had this neighbor that called the cops over every little fuckin’ thing.  A dog barked too loud, calls the cops.  Some kid walks across his lawn, calls the cops.  And all that fuckin’ bullshit.  Well, I was returning home late one night, the little shitstain figures I’m some hoodlum trying t’ break into my own house and calls the cops.  Cops show up, bust in the door, and shoot me dead.  Low and behold, here I am in Hell while my daughter grows up without a father.”</p><p>“Hmmm-mmmm, real tragic.  So ya want us to go after the neighbor or the cop that shot you?”</p><p>“Both.”</p><p>“Ohhh, that’s going to be a bit pricey,” Blitzo said with a gleam in his amber eyes.  “The two for one deal has expired and cops cost a bit more.”</p><p>“Of course, I have the money,” the spider demon said, giving him a wide grin.  “Just name your price.”</p><p>The client, Danny, even put a deposit down on the hits.  Usually, clients were more tight fisted, not wanting to fork over any cash until the kills were confirmed.  Danny only smiled and handed over the money with no complaint.  Why couldn’t more clients be this compliant?</p><p>***</p><p>Arackniss didn’t like coming to this part of the neighborhood.  The poorer Sinners resided here. Usually, they were the new arrivals who have yet to find their footing in their new place in Hell.  Most of them were stunned heor sad saps who couldn’t believe they were in Hell, and others were just ragers who enjoyed a newfound sense of freedom to give in to their vices with the rampant sex and drugs.</p><p>Yet, the Family needed him to do this.  Money had been stolen by a Family member no less, which was a serious betrayal.  </p><p>And that offender was a new arrival of three months.  A distant relative descended from Henroin’s own brother no less, Arackniss’s thrice great cousin, which made the betrayal much deeper since he was a member of the main Family.  </p><p>The bar was seedy, and the smell of cheap booze and despair made his nose crinkle as he went inside.  His eyes scanned the meager crowd, most drinking themselves into a numb stupor, and a few were weeping.  He found whom he was looking for perched on a barstool at the corner, far from the door in the shadow.</p><p>This one had arrived in Hell two years ago.  Rumor has it that he used to be a supermodel in life, but resurrecting in Hell had given him a twisted piggish appearance with cracked skin.  Arackniss crossed the bar, ignoring the hooker propositioning him with a wink and an ugly smile.  </p><p>“Piggsly?”</p><p>The pig demon blinked, looked around, and then down at Arackniss.  Snorting, he said, “Who wants to know?”</p><p>“Me,” Arackniss said coolly.  “You’ve been havin’ drinks with a spider demon? Dark brown fur, blue eyes, and tall?”</p><p>“Maybe?”</p><p>Knowing how this went, Arackniss laid a bill on the counter.  “Drinks are on me.”</p><p>***</p><p>“All Danny talks about is his family on Earth,” Piggsly muttered after taking several deep swallows of the most expensive brand of booze.  “Some chick named Rachel and their baby.”</p><p>“Not unusual,” Arackniss said.  “A lot of newcomers miss their family.”</p><p>“Well . . . anyway, I don’t know where ya boy went,” Piggsly shrugged.  “We chatted a bit, but we ain’t pals.”</p><p>Arching a brow, Arackniss took a slow sip from his glass.  “You was about t’ day somethin’ just then.”</p><p>“I was?”</p><p>“Yeah.  What was ya about t’ say?”</p><p>“Oh, uh . . .it’s about his family.  He kept talkin’ about reunitin’ with them.”</p><p>“That’s nothin’ new.  A lot of people are waitin’ for family t’ join ‘em down here.”  He had reunited with his father and  . . .Anthony.  </p><p>“It was . . .the way he talked about ‘em.  Like he was gonna go find ‘em or somethin’.  Like he’s gonna hop in a car and get back with his wife and daughter.”  Piggsly brow furrowed in recollection.  “Said somethin’ like . . .he hopes the wife likes the new me or somethin’ like that.”</p><p>Obviously, Piggsly was too drunk to remember much or be any help.  Arackniss drained his glass and scooted off the stool.  “If ya remember anythin’ else 'bout Danny, you come find me.”</p><p> </p><p>  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>   </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Danny</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>WARNING:  Torture in this chapter</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Danny first showed up in Hell three months ago and joined the Family three weeks later. Usually, a new member of the Family does low-end work, such as loan collections or drug trafficking. However, Danny has skills that made him a valuable asset to the Family, and he followed orders efficiently and without question, a trait that Henroin valued among his men.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny came with the Family appearance. Tall spider demon, easily mistaken for Angel Dust at a distance until you got a closer look and saw the eight cold blue eyes and grim mouth set in a thin line . . .until it smiled, and even that brought chills more than charm. Arackniss suspected that Henroin was beginning to see the newcomer as a replacement for Anthony, but he was a different breed altogether. While Anthony was a chaotic fighter, Danny took down targets with surgical precision and applied enough brute force to get the job done.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a test, Henroin sent him on a job to track down five demons that owed money. Danny collected the owed debt and brought along the heads of the debtors . . .all within one day.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it came as a shock when Danny ambushed a major card game, put down the players and cards, and made off with all the money. Henroin being pissed was putting it mildly.     </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Arackniss, you find the sonuvbitch. You find that fuckin' traitor and make him regret the day he fell down here like a goddamn turd . . . make him regret that his mama didn't swallow him instead when she fucked his dad behind the strip joint she worked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Easier said than done. Danny had been a private individual. He had no wish to hang out with members of the Family other than taking on jobs or orders from Henroin. He was focused, never used drugs, and drank in moderation, and his blue eyes were watchful, taking in everything. As if he was waiting for something . . .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arackniss never liked Danny. The moment he laid eyes on his thrice great cousin, there was something about the chestnut brown spider that . . .unsettled him. It wasn't his taste or skill for violence, as most demons had that down here. It was something else that brought tension between his shoulders, like a pinched nerve or a tense muscle. He didn't know what it was until they worked a job together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some little rat demon had made off with the money meant for a drug buy off. Arackniss, Danny, and a Family member named Avilio tracked him down to a rundown apartment building and cornered him in the basement. Avilio went to work, roughing up the rat demon to force him to tell where he hid the money, but Danny stopped him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're expending too much energy, cousin," he said as kindly as a little league coach correcting a player's swing. He called everyone in the Family cousin save for Henroin, whom he referred to as uncle. "Blows to the head will render him unconscious and he won't feel a thing. Let me show what you're supposed to do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he pinned the rat down with a knee between the shoulders, twisted the arm behind the back, and proceeded to snap each finger in slow, deliberate twists. He didn't ask questions, didn't listen when the rat pleaded and screamed, and even when he screamed where the location of the money when Danny broke the middle finger, the chestnut spider didn't stop until he mangled the small finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being in Hell, Arackniss was not unaccustomed to watching torture or violence, having perpetuated it himself, but . . .it was how casually Danny had done it. There was no pleasure or regret in his actions, just a casual coldness . . .as if he was snapping peas instead of fingers.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Avilio made to leave to fetch the money, Danny stopped him again. "Never believe what they tell you at first. Right now, he'll say anything to make the pain stop. Now I ask questions."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny asked plenty of questions, drawing out information like water from a fountain. He asked one question after another. Most were innocuous, like what he did for a living on Earth if he had any relatives in Hell, or what his favorite drinks were served. Then he would ambush with direct questions about the money and the heist, always keeping the rat off balance. Danny often cycled back around to ask the same questions again to see if he got the same answer and scrutinized everything the rat offered.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he didn't just use pain. Sometimes, he was kind and affectionate with the rat. Stroking his hair, patting his shoulder, and even offering comfort when the rat wept in fear and pain, giving him a cigarette and a drink from a flask. He even told him a few jokes while the rat's demon body healed from the torture. Then cold brutality, Danny would resume the torture, reopen healed wounds, break mended bones, and even cut out a regrown eye.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a sick and fascinating pattern, but it gave them profound results. They not only regained the money but also learned the names of those involved, who helped them, and even learned about other deals going on behind the Family's back.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arackniss ended the rat's life with a holy bullet but noticed the gleam of regret in Danny's eyes. Not sadness at the rat's death, but disappointment the game had ended. As they left the apartment building, Danny said ruefully, "God, I miss my wife." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arackniss realized then what it was that unsettled him about Danny. When he looked at others, he analyzed them to see how best to take them apart or how to get beneath their skin and start peeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loona enjoyed the time while the imps were off in the living world. No one bugged her about answering the phones or griping about her attitude or being injured. She could play on her phone and endure her hangover in peace.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, much to her aggravation was a knock at the door. Maybe if she ignored it …</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knocking persisted, hammering a spike into her pained head with each rap on the door. With an annoyed growl, she rose, stomped to the door, and threw it opened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What!? What the fuck do you want!?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most people on the other side of the door would have cringed or even ran away at the sight of a furious hellhound. The blue eyed spider demon only blinked with all right eyes and inclined his head politely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello, I was in this morning," the chestnut spider said with a rare courteous air she associated with Stolas. "I fear I may have provided incorrect information about the targets' locale. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snorting, Loona stepped back and let him in. Her first mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, where the fuck are they supposed to go?" She pulled out her phone, turning her back to the client—her second mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The client closed and locked the door behind him. The fact that it didn't raise any red flags or run any alarm bells for her was her third mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Virginia," the client said casually. "Quantico."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And that's still in the U.S., right…" Loona thumbed her phone, pulling up Earth's map. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The client surveyed the room. He had mapped it out with eidetic memory upon his earlier arrival and knew where all the doors and windows were located without needing to look. He also knew they had a phone on the receptionist's desk and one in the main office. All three imps were gone, leaving the hellhound alone to handle any office business while they are on assignment. Sloppy. So very sloppy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He casually stepped around the desk, grabbed the chair, and smashed it across Loona's back. The impact propelled her forward, landing heavily on her front. Before she had a chance to recover or realize what had happened, he kicked her across the muzzle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her phone slipped from her hand and spun away on the floor. Teeth bared in a snarl, she propped her hands beneath her, but a solid knee between her shoulder blades pinned her down, and her arm was seized, wrenched up behind her at a painful angle, making it impossible for her to gain leverage. A hand shoved her face into the floor by twisting the ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You...dumbfuck...gonna wish you…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>White hot pain landed through her hand and wrist when her middle finger was bent back until it snapped. There was a pause as the agony course through her arm, then the next finger was broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Usually, I'd take my time," the client said in a friendly voice. "Ask about your day, how do you like your job, and if you had plans later."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*snap* </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loona hissed and wrenched her body, but more weight was pressed down. A second knee rested on her ribs, making it painful to breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I'm in a bit of a hurry. So would you kindly tell me where the book is?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"W-What book?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*snap*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her teeth rattled whether from silent agony or wordless fury, she didn't know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I like games too, but not right now. Now give me the book, or I start on the other hand. Or perhaps I can burn your nose with a lighter? Are hellhounds immune to fire like imps? Let's find out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny's place had already been tossed, but Arackniss knew a lot of things could be overlooked during a quick search. He needed a lead to follow and didn't dare return to Henroin with nothing to show for his efforts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So far, Danny had at least a day's headstart to hide somewhere in the city, but Pentagram City was massive with many hiding places. Chances were Danny betrayed them and sided with a rival mafia or Overlord. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dingy apartment was one room, barely larger than a hotel room. And it had been tossed over alright. The closet's contents were thrown onto the floor, drawers yank out and scattered, and the bed overturned. Damn, he'd have to sift through the mess to find anything.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meticulously, Arackniss searched the closet for any secret panels or loose boards, the pockets of clothes, and the walls. Danny was a smart bastard, and if he hid anything here, it couldn't be easily found unless one knew where to look. It wasn't until Arackniss checked under the bed that he saw the vent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was very little dust around it, which indicated it had been frequented. Able to reach it due to his smaller stature, he used a pocket knife to unscrew it from the wall and set it aside. Within the vent was a small leather sketchbook with a thin ribbon tied around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crawling out from under the bed and into the light, Arackness perched on the edge of the fallen mattress and cracked open the book. Within were drawings of a pretty human woman with a round face and soft eyes and a baby. Arackniss supposed this was the family Danny missed so much. Well, nothing out of the norm here. A lot of Sinners that just arrived miss their families left behind on Earth.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposed the cold fuck had someone he cared about, but how did this help him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flipping through the pages, he came across a slip of paper tucked between the pages. It was a silly ad with a red and white faced imp grinning widely. I.M.P., the assassins who could go into the living world to kill humans for Sinners wanting revenge from beyond the grave.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arackniss wondered who Danny wanted dead in the Living World. Whenever he spoke about his life before Hell, it was about his wife and daughter . . .</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was . . .the way, he talked about 'em. Like he was gonna go find 'em or somethin'. Like he's gonna hop in a car and get back with his wife and daughter. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit. . ." Arackniss pocketed the book and hurried for the door. This was as good a lead as any. He called Henroin on the way and tell him the search was taking him to Imp City.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Liar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Pennsylvania </b>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"It smells like shit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Check your shoes, sir."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up, Moxxie. I was talking about your shitty attitude."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The foliage was dense with green leaves, and prickly twigs clung to their clothing as they crept closer to the house. It was a two-story cabin, clean and painted blue with a front porch swing and a rocking chair on the front.  The lawn was neatly trimmed with a tall chain-link fence surrounding the front and back yards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sir, something about this isn't right," Moxxie sucked his head beneath a thick branch. His horns tapped it, causing little leaves to jostle into his hair. "Where are the other houses?  The client said the target calls law enforcement on his neighbors, but this is the only house we've seen for miles."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can it, Moxxie," Blitzo muttered, wrangling his horns free of a stubborn branch. "This is where the client said the target would be."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe we should go back and double check the intel…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?  You think he lied about where the dumbfuck he wants dead is?" Blitzo was getting more and more irritated as he wrestled to free his coat from the bush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe we got the address wrong?" Moxxie persisted. "How can this person call the cops on neighbors when he doesn't have any?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He could have moved," Millie appeared to him, her tail snagging his for a quick entwine that sent a warm flutter up his spine.  She gave him a flirtatious bat of her long eyelashes, which made him feel mushy inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ya see, Moxxie, it's like Millie said, the asshole moved after getting his neighbor killed. Now get up that tree and see if you can get eyes on fucker."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a heavy heart and a sigh, Moxxie scaled the nearby tree, a rifle strapped to his back. He chose a sturdy thick branch halfway up the tree. The leaves were still thick but turning a russet color indicative of the changing seasons. It provided good camouflage for his red skin and dark clothes. Hefting the rifle, he supported it between two accommodating twigs and peered through the scope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The windows were draped, and no movement in the front or backyard. After giving it another scan, Moxxie reported, "I can see anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Goddammit. We're gonna have to move in.  Millie, scout ahead. We go in through the back and get the sonuvbitch."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Imp City</b>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a two hour drive to Imp City, and finding the right building was easy enough with the large black and white horns attached to the building.  There was no security for the building as far as he could see.  The office was on one of the higher floors, and the elevator didn't take him up all the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept his gun unholster in case he ran into Danny and stayed aware of his surroundings.  Imp City had more order than Pentagram City, but violence was still common occurrences, but he had the feeling that Danny had the same disregard for the law as the Family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So far, there was no encounter with the chestnut spider, which didn't set him at ease at all.  The bastard was either here or was on his way here.  Or worse, had come and gone.  Had the trail gone cold before he got here?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He arrived at the door with IMP Headquarters painted sloppily on the wood.  The door was locked.  Drawing his gun and handing clear of the door, he gave it a hard rap.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited for a beat and tried knocking again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a low sound on the other side.  It wasn't the sudden movement of something hiding or getting clear to open fire but a cross between a whine or moan.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holstering his gun, Arackniss drew out a set of lockpicks.  Having learned this skill at a young age and honing it throughout his life on Earth and in Hell, the tumblers gave way to his deft touch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door swung open, giving him a view of a hellhound lying prone on the floor.  Her hands were mangled, the fingers were broken, blood stained her snout, and her nose was burned.  Arackniss recognized Danny's work and instantly drew his gun and scanned the room.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All his senses zeroed in on his surroundings for sounds of a click of a gun, a footstep, or the door creaking open.  He even smelled the hair but could only smell the hellhound's blood and pain.  Was it even still alive?  The wounds were still fresh, and hellhounds healed quickly, so Danny must be close by.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a door on the opposite wall.  Giving the hellhound a wide berth, he headed for the door to check the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's gone . . .the fucker's gone."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arackniss turned to the hellhound. "Who?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The . . .blue eyed . . .”  The hellhound grimaced as she hefted herself up and cried out when she tried to use her hands. "Fuck!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lemme guess, spider demon, tall, blue eyes, and brown fur?" Arackniss guessed, not holstering his gone. "Where did he go?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He got . . . Satan Dammit! Where's my phone . . ."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, sweetheart, ya didn't answer my question."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck off . . ."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arackniss noticed a red phone on the floor.  It was almost hidden beneath the desk.  Picking it up, he waved it at the hellhound. "You want this?  Answer my fuckin' question."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hellhound glared bloody hate at him for a moment before sneering, "Your boyfriend went to the human world, asshole."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Pennsylvania </b>
</p><p>
  <span>"God, the smell is even worse!"  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir . . .I really think . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up!  My God, Moxie, if you open your fucking mouth again before we gut this target, I'm gonna . . ."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a shriek as Blitzo's fun flashed and rang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Blitzo!" Millie hissed over her shoulder from where she was picking the backdoor lock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was stirring from within the house.  Moxxie nervously looked between Blitzo and the upper window where a light had turned on.  A shadow was moving behind the drapes.  “Sir . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no, this is easier.  Just get ready to blow his head off when he opens the door," Blitzo hissed as he fumbled his phone out of his pocket. "I swear to God, if this is Stolas wanting phone sex again . . ."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Millie stepped back from the door, pocketing the lockpicks and drawing her life.  She stood clear of the door while Moxxie armed his rifle with his finger on the trigger, ready to squeeze the instant the door opened, and a face appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Loona!  You know not to call Daddy when he's on the job . . ."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blitzo . . . the client . . .came back to the office. . .” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had heard Loona's voice when she was pissed off, angry, or hungover, but Millie and Moxxie had never heard her like this before.  She sounded as if she was speaking through a lot of pain.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, yeah, what did the client want?" Blitzo said, annoyed, not catching the note in Loona's voice.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He got the book."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a beat of silence, save for dogs' distant barking and stomping inside the house.  Millie frantically looked between Blitzo and the house while Moxxie kept his eye on the door but kept his ears attentive to the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait. . .which book?" Blitzo muttered, raking a claw over his horns. "The phone book?  A little black book?  A cookbook?  Because I KNOW he doesn't have THE book, right?  The one we need to return to Hell?  The one our business relies on . . ."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah . . .Dad . . .he has the fuckin’ book.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Blitzo blinked in surprise.  Loona rarely referred to him as Dad. "Loonie . . .what's wrong?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A new voice came across the line, gruff and deep, "Sorry, I think she passed out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who the fuck is this!?" Blitzo snarled at the phone. "So help me Satan and God, if you had . . ."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not me.  She was banged up when I got here, but I know who did it.  Tall spider demon with brown fur and blue eyes, goes by the name Danny."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck.  Sir, that's the client!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh golly jee fuckin' whiz, Moxxie, I remember what the asshole looks like!  I talked to him an hour ago!"  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The hellhound said he went t' the livin' world," the male voice said. "I think he's tryin' t' reunite with his family."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is not happening . . .oh, fuck me, this is not happening." Blitzo moaned. "I'm going to wake up and this has all been a bad dream."  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An explosion created a melon size hole in the door.  Blitzo hit the dirt while Millie threw herself off the porch, taking Moxxie with her as another explosion, rented the hair, and created another hole in the door.  They rolled together on the ground, and by some luck or miracle, the rifle didn't go off between them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Scatter!" Blitzo shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get the fuck outta here, you commie bastards!  Get 'em, boys!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The imps ran like frightened squirrels as a dozen german shepherds erupted from the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Virginia</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael hated working the late night shift at the overnight McDonald's drive-thru.  The craziest customers came through, and not to mention, he was bored out of his skull since the manager ruled out any devices during their shift.  But it gave him beer money on the weekends and kept his parents off his back about being unemployed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A car just pulled up and ordered a Big Mac combo meal with a chocolate shake and cookies.  The voice over the intercom was smooth and deep and promptly gave the order without taking time to think or stutter, unlike most customers who decide what they wanted when they got to the menu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the car came around to the window, a long arm extended from the car, handing over the exact change.  Michael didn't notice anything strange until he held out the bag and soda.  His heart dropped into his stomach when he saw the face with four blue eyes peering at him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is there a problem, son?" Danny asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no s-s-sir,” Michael stammered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as Danny got the bag, he opened it, took out the Big Mac, and took a large bite out of it, which was almost half the burger.  Michael watched in stunned silence as the spider demon closed all four eyes in exaltation as he chewed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Damn . . .it's strange. . .before I died I never liked fast food. Wouldn't let my wife have any either.  But after I died, other than seeing her and my daughter again, all I wanted was a Big Mac burger.  Weird, huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-yeah . . ."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have a good night . . .Michael," the spider demon said, scanning the name tag as he rolled up the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the car drove away, Michael clocked out and went home, quitting his job.  He never worked another night shift again.   </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Truce</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blitzo and Arackniss form an arrangement.  Danny visits home.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Pennsylvania </b>
</p><p>A late-night shower poured over the top of the old bus stop along an old road. The roof was made from old tin pockmarked with rusty holes where the rainwater drizzled through. It was a cold and miserable place, and it was where the imps had gathered to recover and process their new circumstances.</p><p>Moxie was crowned on the bench's end, hugging his knees against his chest while Millie stroked his white hair. The two of them listened in silence to the third imp who was pacing back and forth the length of the short bus stop and growling into a phone.</p><p>"So let me get this straight . . . "Blitzo moaned into the phone, waving an arm in animated strangulation of whoever caused this disaster. "The client, Danny, as you call that shitfuck, sent us on a fucking wild goose chase so he can doubleback and steal the book!"</p><p>"Yep, that seems t' be his plan," Arackniss, as he had introduced himself, replied.</p><p>"Sonuvabitch!" Blitzo howled. Drawing a deep breath that expanded his chest, he said, "How's Loonie? Is she healing?"</p><p>"Yeah. Got her offa the floor and on a couch. She's pretty tough for a girl, but she is a hellhound so that gotta count for somethin', I guess."</p><p>"Alright . . ." Blitzo took a moment to think. "So you're after Danny too?"</p><p>"Yeah, the traitor stole from the Family and my P . . .my boss ordered me to track him down and kill 'im." There was a short pause. "Though, I had no fuckin' clue he was gonna head for the Living World."</p><p>"You said some shit about his family?"</p><p>"Yeah, Danny's been talkin' about his family. His wife's name is Rachel and they hadda baby."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, he told me," Blitzo growled. "Probably the only truthful thing the asshole told me."</p><p>He took another deep breath as was his usual habit when he was thinking. "Alright, we find the asshole and get the book back."</p><p>"But sir . . ." Moxxie piped up from behind his knees. "The Living World is a big place . . .we don't know where he is. You said it yourself, he lied about the target so he might be somewhere far away."</p><p>“But we know where’s going . . .to some chick named Rachel . . .and a baby . . .uh, uh . . .” Blitzo’s eyes narrowed in concentration. "Annie? Anna! Anna! Rachel and Anna. We find them and we find the bastard!"</p><p>A dry laugh came from the phone. "Good luck with that. Rachel and Anna were common names even when I was alive. Unless you have their last names or know where they live, then you're shit outta luck."</p><p>"V-Virginia . . ." A weak voice whispered across the phone.</p><p>"Ah, you're awake."</p><p>"Virginia . . .Quantico . . .that's what he said before . . ." Loona's voice ended in a moan of pain.  </p><p>"Just take it easy, sweetheart," Arackniss said.</p><p>"Okay, Virginia, Quantico . . .that's where we'll find the bastard and since he used the book, he likely opened a portal straight there." Blitzo's tail quivered in the excitement of something finally going right for them. "How far away are we from there?"</p><p>"Dunno. Where are ya?"</p><p>"Uh, we're in Pennsylvania, several miles north of Harrisburg." Millie pointed at an old map of the bus route on the wall, next to the bus stop's opening.  </p><p>"Pal, pull up a map and map out a route . . ."</p><p>"Let me stop you there, pal," Arackniss cut him off. "Firstly, I don't work for you. Secondly, the money Danny gave you is the Family's money. Thirdly, what's in it for me if I help you? I can just take the money Danny gave you and split."</p><p>"Don't you dare, you mobster piece of shit . . ."</p><p>"Watch it! You're a world away and I'm here with yer girl who can barely lift her head. I can toss this place, get the money, and go home if I want."</p><p>"No, you don't want to do that," Blitzo growled into the phone he clutched with a trembling hand, then a snide smile spread across his face. "You wouldn't be after Danny over the chump change he paid me, so he still has the rest of your money hidden away somewhere. And you want the fucker dead too, don't you?"</p><p>There was a stubborn silence, but Arackniss acquiesced, "He betrayed the family. He has t' pay."</p><p>"Alright, you help us to help you." Blitzo beamed, pleased by winning an argument. "You're a Sinner, right? Used to be human? You'll know the terrain."</p><p>"Now waitaminute, I died 70 years ago. Everything I know is gonna be outta date."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, now we gotta find a way to Virginia, Quantico."</p><p>***</p><p>
  <b>Virginia, Quantico</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The car parked in front of a house with a For Sale sign in the front yard. No one paid much mind when after hours, and people were eager to go home and enjoy their time at home and with family. Any who did take notice assumed it was someone interested in purchasing the house and went back to their lives without a thought about the car as it was gone in the morning.</p><p>In the late-night hours, when the last light was switched off in all the houses along the street, a tall figure left the car and went to the front door.  </p><p>The front door was easily unlocked with a twisted wire. When the door opened, the tall figure stepped inside and shut the door behind him.</p><p>"Honey, I'm home," he sighed.  </p><p>There were no hurried footsteps to greet him or to take his coat. There were no smells of home cooking or lavender candles Rachel liked. And there were no sounds of Anna cooing to herself in the next room.  </p><p>The house was stripped bare. All the furniture was gone save for tape marking off parts of the house for an estate agent to show off the home to potential buyers. He went upstairs, pausing at the nursery. Blue eyes tracked where the bassinet had stood where tiny arms and feet waved to indicate Anna was awake and ready to play with Daddy.  </p><p>Then he went into the bedroom. It seemed bigger without the bed, like a hollow bone. Nostalgia was not why he was here.  </p><p>Inside the closet, there was a loose board in the ceiling. When he was human, he had to use a footstool to reach it, but now he could easily get it as a seven-foot demon. Rachel never knew about this compartment he had hidden away. She was aware of the other guns he kept locked away for protection and his job, but not this.</p><p>He pulled the duffle bag down from the hole and rifled through it. Yes, everything was there: a burner phone, several thousand dollars in cash, a loaded Glock 17 with an extra clip, passports (though these may be useless now), and a laptop.  </p><p>Carrying the bag out of the house, he took one last look around, just for old times sake, and then returned to the car. One of the neighbors had an expansive wireless network, and they didn't bother encrypting it. He accessed the internet and news article from three months ago.</p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Man Killed in Domestic Abuse Confrontation</em> </b> </p><p>
  <em> Daniel Russo was shot dead during a deadly confrontation with the police. A neighbor called the police due to hearing screaming from next door. Police arrived to find Russo and his family gone and traced a 911 call from Rachel Russo, the suspect's wife, who had fled to a shelter for domestic abuse victims. Russo was trying to break into the shelter when the police arrived.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> After multiple warnings, Russo pulled a gun on police and was shot. He died of his injuries before the paramedics could arrive. There were no other casualties.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Mrs. Russo refused to give a statement at this time, stating she needed to focus on caring for her daughter, three-month-old Anna. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>So there was nothing about where Rachel went with Anna? Rubbing his chin in thought while his lower hands fetched a cigarette from one of the packs he brought with him from Hell, Danny considered his options.  </p><p>The only family Rachel had was her mother, but they hadn't been on speaking terms since before Anna was born. No, she wouldn't go there. She'd go somewhere far away from where she'll feel safe.  </p><p>There was one person she trusted in town. And it was the one person who had been trying to convince his wife to leave him: Marcie Gibson, the woman in charge of the women's shelter.  </p><p>Oh, he's been wanting to pay that bitch a visit.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>        </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pursuit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Somewhere in Pennsylvania</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The cashier was barely registering the complaining woman across the counter. She was bitching about the price of gas as if he had set the prices.  </p><p>"Ma'am, the prices are set by the corporate office," the cashier said in his most polite tone. It was far too late to deal with this shit, but he didn't dare give her anything less than his most professional attitude. "I can give you their number if you want to lodge a complaint about the prices."</p><p>"Yes, I want that number. In the meantime, I need a discount on gas. The price is outrageous."</p><p>"I can't do that, ma'am," the cashier said. "I don't have the authority . . ."</p><p>"Then get the manager!"</p><p>From behind the woman, the door opened and closed.  </p><p>"I'm sorry, ma'am, but the manager isn't available at this time."</p><p>"Don't give me that! If he's not here, then ring him up!"</p><p>If the cashier had been attentive, he would have noticed hands snatching treats and drinks from the shelves.</p><p>"I can't do that ma'am," the cashier said, beginning for anything to happen to get this woman out of the store. It was past time he closed up and went home, but this woman refused to leave the store.  </p><p>"Don't tell me, can't!" The woman said so furiously spittle spewed from her mouth. "You have been nothing but rude to me since I arrived! Now I demand to speak to your manager right now!'</p><p>The door opened and closed again, but not before a small red hand grabbed a US atlas from the newspaper and magazine racks.  </p><p>"Ma'am, I assure you I am trying to resolve this issue for you, but you won't listen to me."</p><p>"Are you talking back to me?" The woman's voice became shrilled and angry.</p><p>"No, ma'am, but I've done all I can to help you." The cashier had enough. Let the manager write him up later, but he was ready to go home, dammit. "Yelling at me isn't going to give you what you . . ."</p><p>The red Corvette parked at the gas pump came alive with the headlights flashing on brightly, and the engine roared to life. The angry woman and cashier watched nonplussed as the Corvette pulled away from the gas pumps and drove off down the highway at high enough speed to leave rubber lines on the pavement.  </p><p>"Th-that's my car!" The woman shrieked, running out of the door.</p><p>In a moment of pettiness and spite, the cashier hurried around the counter, locked the door, and turned the sign to closed. Then he quickly turned off the lights and dashed out the back to his waiting car. As he left to go home, he smiled in sick pleasure as the fucking bitch hammered at the glass door, demanding to be let in as her car had been stolen.</p><p>Bitch.  </p><p>***</p><p>"Alright, shitdick, how far is Virgin Quans?" Blitzo had the pedal floored, breaking the speed limit by over 50.   </p><p>"In a moment, sir! I have to find out where we are!" Moxxie was in the backseat, hidden behind the unfolded atlas, rifling through different pages. "I have no idea where we are! Are we in China? Russia? Or India?"</p><p>"We're in the United States," Millie said, leaning between the seats to see road signs. "And it's Virginia, Quantico, Blitzo."</p><p>"Whatever. Moxxie, I need a direction!"</p><p>"I need a minute, sir!"  </p><p>"Uh, Blitz, I see flashing lights back there."</p><p>"Aw, shit!"</p><p>***</p><p>"This is Squad Car 45, chasing a speedster down highway 80. Red Corvette. License plate RDKREN. Driver is not slowing down nor pulling over . . .requesting backup. Over and out."</p><p>"Red Corvette? One was reported stolen twenty minutes ago with the same license plate."</p><p>"Well, shit. I'm in pursuit of car thieves - fuck! They went off road! Going through a corn field! I'm in pursuit!"</p><p>***</p><p>"Are they following us!?" Blitzo roared over his shoulder.  </p><p>"Yeah! I can see their lights!" Millie was perched in the backseat, looking through the window.  </p><p>"Sir . . .I can't. . .ohhhh, I'm not feeling good." The constant rocking motion of the car was making Moxxie's stomach turn. And trying to read the map didn't help matters either.</p><p>"Fuck, Moxxie! Get your shit together and shoot them!"</p><p>The Corvette blew through a wooden fence, momentarily catching the air before landing on four tires hard enough to scratch the axel on the asphalt. Tires screeched as Blitzo hit the pedal, twisting the car onto the road.  </p><p>"They're still coming!"</p><p>"Moxxie, goddammit!"</p><p>Now the car was running on stable ground and no longer being bounced about, Moxxie was able to focus enough to collect his rifle and twist around in the backseat.</p><p>***</p><p>"Fuck! Shots fired! Shots fired! Suspects are armed and dangerous!"</p><p>"What's your location 45?"</p><p>"We're on Road 80 heading west."</p><p>***</p><p>"They're still on us!" Millie called to the front.</p><p>"Moxxie, what the fuck are you doing!?"</p><p>"Sir, I never had to shoot from a moving car at someone in another moving car!" Moxxie rejoined. "If you would keep the car straight . . ."</p><p>"It's called serpentine, asshole," Blitzo snarled. "I'm trying to keep the fucktards back there from shooting back at us!"</p><p>"Blitzo! There's more lights!"</p><p>"Goddammit, goddammit!"</p><p>***</p><p>
  <strong>Virginia, Quantico</strong>
</p><p>The room was dark save for the blue glow of the television. A second light source appeared in the flicks of a lighter and the orange glow of a cigarette that flared as he drew a slow pull on it. One good thing about Hell Danny liked was the cigarettes were as he liked them, strong with a kick in the taste.</p><p>His lower hands twisted opened a Miller Lite, which unfortunately was the only selection of booze in the fridge. He made a face at the innocuous bottle and tipped it back towards his mouth anyway. It was better than nothing.</p><p>Tomorrow night, he would take care of one more bit of business in Quantico than he was heading to Kansas. It took some doing, but he managed to determine where his wife had taken his daughter while he was away.</p><p>The tv program switched to a news report. He recognized the news reporter, a pretty black woman with high cheekbones and a pleasant voice.</p><p>"We interrupt this program to bring you a Breaking News Report. Authorities in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and West Virginia are involved in a high speed chase that has crossed state lines!"</p><p>He raised an eyebrow at the tv in mild interest. </p><p>"Earlier this evening, a red corvette was stolen from a gas station in south Pennsylvania. Shots have been fired from the vehicle, but no officers have been injured."</p><p>Video played of a red corvette speeding down a highway with a multitude of squad cars behind it.  </p><p>"No demands have been made, but the erratic behavior of the driver is cause for concern. Especially when it drove off road and across the neighborhood's front lawns in Maryland, crossed state lines into West Virginia where the chase ended when the Corvette crashed into park bleachers of a ballpark. The suspects have not been apprehended, but must be assumed armed and dangerous."</p><p>Then another image appeared, which had Danny leaning forward in deeper interest. "The three suspects are wearing red devil masks with black and white horns."</p><p>They were caricatures of the real thing, but he recognized them as imps all the same.</p><p>"Holy shit," Danny whispered.  </p><p>"The suspects were last seen heading south from Morgantown. If you have any information as to the identity or location of these individuals, please call the number below."</p><p>"The bastards are coming after me," Danny said, grinning around his cigarette. "Oh, this just got more entertaining."</p><p>He might as well get some sleep now as it seems his plans had just changed. What he was putting off until tomorrow night would have to be done in the early morning hours.  </p><p>Danny switched off the tv and drained the last of his beer. Strolling across the living room, he stepped over the arc of blood spray, turning dark on the carpet, and went upstairs to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Matilda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The For Sale sign flapped in the morning breeze.  It made a high pitch squeal as the rings caused friction on the rusted metal.  The house had laid empty for three months since the incident that shocked the neighborhood to its core.  </p><p>Matilda Anderson usually enjoyed the silence in the morning, but now she felt itchy as if something was crawling beneath her skin.  She followed her usual routine, said her morning prayers, went downstairs for a breakfast of orange juice and microwaved bacon and eggs.  Since she lost most of her eyesight twenty years ago, she preferred brands with strong tastes and smells.  </p><p>She opened the screen door to the patio so she could hear the birds chirping at her feeders.  However, this morning it wasn't just birds she heard.</p><p>"Ow, Millie, my tail."</p><p>"Oh, sorry, sweetie."</p><p>Matilda listened carefully, hearing the voices from the bushes outside of the old Russo house. "Hello?"</p><p>There was a sudden stillness. "I think they heard us."</p><p>"Shhh, she can't hear us over here . . ."</p><p>"Yes, I can, honey," Matilda said kindly. "My eyes are given out, but my hearing is as good as it ever been. Ya'll lookin' for somewhere?"</p><p>"Uhhhh, no?"</p><p>"Hey, Mox, maybe she knows . . ."</p><p>"I don't know about this . . ."</p><p>Matilda's brow crinkled. "Are ya'll in trouble?"</p><p>"No! We're looking for Rachel.  Did she come by?" The voice was female with a thick southern accent.  </p><p>"Ya don't mean Rachel Russo, do you?"</p><p>"Yes'm," the girl said. "We read in the phone book that she lives here with a Daniel?"</p><p>"Oh, dear," Matilda sighed. "Ya musta not heard about what happened."</p><p>"We know her husband died."</p><p>"Well, yes, but . . .maybe you better come inside for a cup of coffee.  What I have to tell you isn't for the public."</p><p>***</p><p>They were tiny little things, Matilda supposed.  They were light of step and didn't make hardly any noise sitting at the kitchen table.  Knowing her kitchen by heart, Matilda fetched them coffee cups and set the full pot on the counter. </p><p>"Help yourself, childs.  I can't cook much, but I can microwave some food if ya'll are hungry."</p><p>"Uh, no, we raided a Wendys last night," the young fellow said.</p><p>"Excuse me, honey, you did what at a Wendy's?" Matilda paused, taking another microwavable breakfast tray from the freezer. </p><p>There were a shuffle and a grunt.  The girl, Millie, said quickly, "We went by a Wendy's last night. We're not hungry, thank you."</p><p>"Oh.  Well, you're here to hear about Miss Rachel and what happened to her husband, Daniel Russo?" Matilda asked politely as she shuffled across the kitchen to the microwave.  Her fingers knew the button well, and it was more from muscle memory that she set the timer.</p><p>"Well, we're kinda lookin' for her," Millie said. "Do you know where she went after her husband died?"</p><p>"I'm not sure . . .I know she went out east as soon as she settled her husband's affairs," Matilda sighed. "Wanted to get away from all the bad memories in that house I supposed.  Her husband, Daniel . . .he wasn't a good man.  Sure wasn't good to her at all."</p><p>"We heard," Millie replied, a bit more dryly than was polite. "We really need to find her.  Her husband has something that belongs to us and he's looking for her too."</p><p>Matilda might have to get her hearing checked. "I'm sorry, I don't understand.  Daniel died.  The police shot him."</p><p>"What happened?" The boy with the odd name, Moxxie, asked.  </p><p>Matilda sat down, taking the weight off her old bones. "They moved in two years ago.  Two happy newlyweds of the neighborhood. Couldn't see them, because of my blindness of course, but I was told they were a pretty couple.  He was older than her by a good ten, fifteen years, but Rachel was a nice young girl.  Always came over to make sure I had everything I needed and met Marcie Gibson, my social worker through me."</p><p>Then Matilda's face pinched into a frown. "But that Daniel . . .he had the whole neighborhood fooled.  Outside that house, he was polite, thoughtful, and kind, but inside . . .he became someone else . . .he became a devil.  Beating on that poor girl."</p><p>“Well . . .ma’am . . .how do you know?”  Moxxie asked nervously. "You're blind."</p><p>"Son, my eyes gave out, but my ears could hear everythin' that happened next door.  I could hear him over there yellin' at her, her screamin' and cryin' when he hit her. Don't know how many times I called the cops on 'em, but everytime they come over, he greets them at the door as polite and happy as you please and tell 'em it was just old blind Matilda hearing the tv playing too loud.  The only time that poor girl had any peace was when he was gone on business for weeks at a time."  </p><p>"But you said the cops killed him?" Millie said.  There was a slurping sound of her sipping the coffee.  </p><p>"I did and that did happen, and Imma 'bout t' get to that.  I got Marcie Gibson involved and she tried t' get that poor girl to leave her husband, but I think the child was just too scared t' do it.  Then she got pregnant."</p><p>Matilda took a long sip of her coffee to wet her mouth.  It's been a while since anyone came to visit and talk, though she did most of the talking.  Her guests waited patiently, interested in what Matilda had to tell them. "After she got pregnant, he stopped beating her.  Oh, he became the doting expectant father you could hope for.  Went with her to every lamaze class, doctor visits, and set up the nursery for her. I'm over here thinkin' that maybe . . .just maybe being a father changed him."</p><p>"But it didn't," Moxxie said, and sounded sorrowful.</p><p>"I'm afraid not, son.  Rachel gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Anna, and it was all sunshine and roses as my granddaughter would say.  Yet, a month after the baby was born, he went right back t' beating Rachel."</p><p>"What happened the night he was killed?" Millie asked.</p><p>"It started out like it usually did.  Him yelling and her crying, but then . . .the baby started crying."  Matilda's mind drifted back to that final night. "I knew . . .I knew in my old bones something terrible was about to happen.  Something worse than him hitting her.  I didn't know what, but I knew better than t' call the police as they won't do anythin'.  So I called Marcie Gibson t' come over."</p><p>A shiver went down her spine as the memories came back to her. "Somethin' happened over there.  I don't know what, and maybe I never will . . .not sure if I want to.  He did somethin' that crossed the line for Rachel.  Usually, it was him yelling at her . . .but that time . . .Rachel was the one screaming at him and she screamed at him like a wildcat.  Marcie showed up in her car . . .I could hear the engine running and the front door slammed.  Rachel took the baby and got into Marcie's car and they took off.  The tires screeched on the road so loud . . .then a few minutes later, Daniel was getting into his car to go after them . . .the rest of it you can read in the paper, but Marcie took Rachel to a women's shelter and Daniel tried to break in.  I don't approve of the police too much since they wouldn't do anythin' t' help Rachel before, but they did a service in shooting that terrible man."</p><p>"And Rachel left town after that?" Millie inquired. "And you don't know where she went?"</p><p>"No, I don't.  But her friend Marcie Gibson may.  She hasn't been in this morning, but I can give you her phone number, if you want t' talk t' her."</p><p>"Thank you very much. You've been most helpful."</p><p>As Matilda saw them to the door, she couldn't help being amazed at how lightly they stepped.  It was like hearing the pitter-patter of children's footsteps. "Lemme ask you a question.  What is it that Daniel had you're after?"</p><p>"Oh, it's a book.  A pretty important book," Moxxie replied.</p><p>"Well, I hope you find it and I wish ya luck.  If you see Rachel, tell her I'm thinkin' 'bout her and wish her the best.  The girl deserves it after what she been through."</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Retrieval</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Blitzo was far from happy and in a lot of pain. The two screwballs he sent off to find that Danny fucker hadn’t come back yet, and he was here bored out of his fucking mind in a goddamn junkyard. He tried to watch the Living World’s YouTube, but his phone ran out of battery, and left his phone behind in the office. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The abandoned car’s backseat offered little comfort to the myriad of bumps and bruises covering his body from last night's catastrophe. At least nothing was broken, and they were able to find food by raiding the restaurant with the happy human girl with pigtails. A bit of melty chocolate shook at the bottom of the paper cup, which he slurped up through the red straw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After crashing the car, they fled through the ballpark and into the wooded area. Then it was hours of running, hiding, trying to stay ahead of the cops and dogs. They couldn’t rest until they hid inside the junkyard, actually a few miles north of Quantico.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had taken the rest of the night and early morning hours searching the white pages site to locate a couple by the names Daniel and Rachel Russo with their phone number and home address. Calling the number only gave a disconnected message, so Moxxie and Millie left to investigate the address.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that left Blitzo to entertain himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddammit,” he muttered when he tried for the fifth time to get the phone to turn on just for a moment.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, at least he won’t get any unexpected calls from Stolas.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blitzo!” A voice cried so loudly outside his window, he yelped in fright and dropped the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God fucking dammit!” He shouted, rounding on Moxxie, who had his head poked through the window. “What the fuck, Mox?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We think we know where he’s headed next.” Undeterred by Blitzo’s fury, he crawled through the window, followed by his wife. “Marcie Gibson might know here Rachel Russo is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel! Our Rachel! Actually, Danny’s Rachel! He’s trying to find her, remember, sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Millie settled on the seat next to Blitzo, crossing her legs. “We found out a lot of information and all from a human of all things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was actually nice. Think she’s gonna go to Heaven?” Moxie claimed a spot next to Mille.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and that’s a shame. I woulda have like to invite her over one night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snapping his fingers at them, Blitzo brought the topic back around to what he wanted - where the fuck the book was. “Where’s my goddamn book!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re getting to that, sir.” Moxxie held up his phone, which Blitzo noticed enviously still had plenty of power. On the screen was a human woman standing outside of a building smiling for the camera. She was blonde with hair styled into a neat chignon and wearing black frame glasses. “This is Marcie Gibson. She was friends with Rachel Russo and she helped her get away from Danny the night he was killed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She may know where Rachel moved after she sold her house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait, the bitch wasn’t there!?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! She moved out after Danny was killed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t know. No one does, except for Marcie Gibson. We tried calling her, there was no answer, but we know where she lives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, great . . .” Blitzo took a moment to process this information. “So where is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not far,” Millie said with a pleased smile. “125 Hoover st.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. We grab her and make her talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or . . .or we could just ask nicely,” Moxxie suggested meekly.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tombstones stood like picket fences, and he passed them by dragging a long shovel behind him. It had only taken a few whacks with a heavy rock to break open the door of the groundskeeper’s shed and steal the tool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny had wanted to do this under cover of night, but time was no longer on his side. And he wasn’t leaving without reclaiming some lost articles.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew where the gravesite laid. It had been reserved for him for years. It was on a grassy knoll, the tombstone fresh with the carved letters still sharp and deep and hadn’t had the years of wind and rain to dull them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>Daniel Russo</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>Loving Father</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>1985 - 2020 </span>
  </strong>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There were still plastic flowers around the grave. He wondered how big the funeral had been? Did Rachel even attend?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking around, no one was around. He wore a long black hoodie and kept his lower arms concealed across his stomach, but he was still abnormally tall, which would draw some eyes. This would have to be done quickly before any mourners visited came to pay their respects.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shovel bit into the turf like a knife. With four arms and demon strength, it didn’t take him as long as it would have if he had done this human. The ground was still soft and had yet to solidify, so it yielded the coffin without much trouble. Having four arms was useful, like having a helper. He was able to lift the coffee from the last layer of dirt and force open the lid.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dry smell of death blew back in his face. It was a smell he was accustomed to from his career, but it hit hard because it was the scent of </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>death and decay.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, wasn’t I a handsome bastard.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He recognized the chestnut hair and his service uniform. The handsome jaw and Roman nose were there, but the rest of the face was dried, desiccated. Though it was important not to waste time, he gave himself this moment to stare at his own body. How often could you see yourself as a corpse?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should feel something other than morbid intrigue. Wouldn’t people usually go insane or scream at the sight of their own corpse? No, he wasn’t like other people. Since he was a boy, Danny knew he wasn’t like other people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled the dog tags from the corpse’s neck and had to break off the finger to get the ring. Without a glance back, he climbed out of the hole and left the veterans’ cemetery. The truck was waiting where he hid it behind a copse of trees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a better fit for him as the truck was larger and comfortable when he pushed the seat back. It was higher up, too, making it hard for anyone to see him, though he wouldn’t drive without the hood up. For now, though, he lowered the hood and gazed at himself in the rearview mirror. He put the dog tags around his neck and then tried on the wedding ring.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a simple golden band with the inscription </span>
  <em>
    <span>To Have and To Hold for Eternity.  </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was a matching inscription on Rachel’s ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m comin’ for ya, baby.” It slipped onto his finger, which was longer and sharper than it had been in life. The band fitted snuggling against his knuckle, and it pleased him as it was a sign.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never believed in faith or religion. Hell, he never believed in an afterlife until he dropped into Hell and gained a new life as a member of the Family. That served its purpose of getting him acclimated to his new body and learn what was possible or dangerous. Now he understood how the universe worked, and there were signs to see and read.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caught his appearance in the mirror and tilted his head as he studied himself. Eight eyes, two of which he kept closed, looked like twin beauty marks at the corners of each of his prominent eyes. There were small eyes set above and below his main eyes. Closing them did little to give him back his old appearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face was too round and lacked a prominent nose. Even his hair had grown out during his time in Hell. He liked it slicked over to the side and partially over one eye as his vision consisting of four eyes - eight if he opened all of them - was perfect despite the obscurity.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t Rachel he worried about being alarmed by his new appearance. She would get in line as soon as he applied some pressure. It was his daughter, Anna, he feared she wouldn’t recognize him. Danny remembered her bright little smiles when she saw him and how she tried to talk back to him with her soft sweet coos and stared at him with such open affection and fascination. If she saw him and his appearance made her cry . . .that could end him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>125 Hoover Street was the sight of a small one-story home. There were a few pink flamingos on the mowed lawn. It was late afternoon, and people were beginning to return home from work. While night would have been a safer time to approach the house, but time wasn’t on their sons any more than it was on Danny’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, the humans paid little attention to the small house on the corner, and the imps were able to sneak under cover of foliage to the backyard. They quickly hopped the fence and approached with guns out.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Millie stayed low to the ground as she went to the back porch and peeked through the window. It was dark inside, but being able to see well in the dark was an inherent imp ability. She made a motion for the others to follow.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blitzo led with his favorite handgun in hand, ready to shoot off Danny’s face as soon as the fucker reared his blue eyed face. Moxxie held back with the rifle, watchful for any movement out of Millie’s view. Once he was sure it was safe, he crossed the backyard to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Millie picked the lock, and in they went.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The main room was clean and had a bleach scent on the air. Nothing seemed disturbed. No furniture was knocked over, no spilled drinks or food, nor was anything broken.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her car was in the driveway,” Moxie whispered.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” Blitzo hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s still here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck. Millie, check the other rooms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an open kitchen area, which was oddly clean. No smell of cooked food and still had that bleached scent. Moxie looked down at the carpet, noticing a wide arc on the carpet was paler than the rest. Curious, he knelt down and threaded his talons through the fibers. A more pungent smell of bleach wafted up to his nose and in the carpet bed was a pinkish tinge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gee, I knew you were a carpet muncher, but not a literal one,” Blitzo jeered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone cleaned up blood here. That’s why the house smells like bleach!” Moxxie said, raising his head to where Millie was about to open a door. “Millie! Don’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned the knob as she turned back to her husband’s voice. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The turning of the knob twisted a thin cord wrapped around it. The cord then pulled on a loop tried around the hair-trigger of a sawed-off shotgun aimed inches from the door.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blast blew open a hole in the wood, and Millie was thrown backward, her dark blood spraying staining her middle and spraying the wall. She landed on the floor in a boneless heap, her limbs sprawl like a broken doll’s.          </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Rachel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Greenwood, Kansas</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“I know the brand names are similar, but you have to pay attention to the spelling.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“The Brandon Stock goes further down the aisle from Barnyard.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Christina Watkins stared at the young woman who had her head bowed like a child being scolded. It made her feel older than her 43 years, like some schoolmarm shaking a ruler at an unruly student. Most employees would roll their eyes at the mistake while others would nod, apologize, and quickly correct their mistake. Rachel Russo was the only one she ever had that looked like she was expecting to be smacked for her mistake.</p><p>“Honey, I’m not yelling at you. It’s just an honest mistake. It’s nothing to fret over.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Sighing, Christina shook her head. “It’s alright. Just move everything to the way they should be. Derrick will help you.” </p><p>Rachel Russo had applied for a job at Piggsy Grocer last week, and with Linda going into maternity leave and Karen moving away, Christina needed the help. Rachel was a good worker and did as she was told, but she was quiet and kept to herself. And she didn’t handle criticism well, always shying away as if to ward off a blow. Christina could only wonder what could have happened to the girl to make her so nervous. </p><p>Rachel was almost halfway done with reorganizing the boxes of flour when Derrick came along. He was a portly man in his late twenties with unruly blonde hair. “Hi, Rachel, Christina said you needed help.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. I got the order wrong.”</p><p>“It’s alright. I did it all the time when I got started.”</p><p>He helped by stacking the boxes on the higher shelves, taking this time to admire her. She was pretty with coffee-colored hair and a soft heart-shaped face. She lifted the boxes to him two at a time but kept her brown eyes lowered from his. At first, he had assumed it was shyness on her part, but there was a nervous energy in her limbs, like a doe about to go into flight at any sudden movement.</p><p>As much as he liked being around her, he felt as if she didn’t want him around. No, it was more like his presence made her nervous. Derrick didn’t think he did or said anything to make her uncomfortable.  </p><p>“It’s got kinda cold lately,” he said in an attempt to strike up a conversation with her.</p><p>She opened her mouth, and for a second, he could swear she was going to apologize for that too. “Yes, it’s cold.”</p><p>“Have you been able to stay warm?”</p><p>There was a short pause. “I . . .I’m sorry, the heater doesn’t work . . .”</p><p>“The one for your house?” He remembered that she doesn’t drive. She came to work by bus and walked to the grocery store. “Has someone been out to fix it?”</p><p>“N-no, not yet.”</p><p>“I can take a look at it. My dad ran a repair shop and after school I helped him. Between the two of us, we musta fix thousands of heaters during the winter months. No charge!”</p><p>“I . . .I don’t know . . .i-it’s alright. It’s not too cold.” She was almost shrinking back at the thought of being a bother to anyone.  </p><p>“Honey, it’s gonna get colder before the end of the year and we tend to get snowed in a few times a year. You don’t wanna be stuck in a house with no heater during a snow day.”</p><p>“I’ll think about it.”</p><p>Rachel didn’t relax until they were finished, and she was able to retreat to the break room. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck at the thought of what Daniel would say or, worse, do if he knew she spoke in private with another man.</p><p>
  <em> No, no, Daniel is dead. He’s not around anymore to be mad at me. He can’t hurt me again. I’m a widow now—a widow. </em>
</p><p>She practiced the breathing exercises the therapist taught her. In through the nose, and out through the mouth. Then she focused on everything around her. The table was red, and the chairs were blue, and they both stood on a black floor. And the wall was white . . .and there was an old coffee stain on the floor.</p><p>
  <em> Daniel wouldn’t like that. He didn’t like messes. No, Daniel is dead! He can’t hurt me! </em>
</p><p>She touched the sleeve of her sweater, then the plastic film on her name tag. Then she braced her hands on the cool table surface and rough surface of the chair.  </p><p>
  <em> I’m safe. I’m safe. Daniel can’t get mad at me anymore.   </em>
</p><p>Then she listened for people speaking outside the room and the squeaking wheels of a grocery cart in need of oiling. And beyond that, someone honked a horn.</p><p>
  <em> I”m not in Quantico anymore. I’m here. I have a job. I work part-time in this grocery store. Daniel can’t get mad at me anymore. </em>
</p><p>Her hands smelled of the lavender scented hand soap from the restroom. And her hair still carried the faint scent of when she washed her hair that morning.  </p><p>
  <em> Daniel isn’t with me anymore. He can’t hurt me. </em>
</p><p>She could almost taste the blood in her mouth from the last time he had struck her across the face. And that was the last time he would ever hurt her.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was a ten minute walk to the daycare to pick up Anna. She walked in silence, hugging her coat around her to keep out the chill in the autumn air. She had moved to the town of Greenwood two months ago. It had been Marcie’s idea of her getting away from Quantico and the terrible memories it carried.</p><p>
  <em> As much as I will miss you, I know you need a fresh start, which you aren’t going to get in this town.   </em>
</p><p>After Daniel’s funeral, Marcie helped her get his affairs in order. She inherited a sizable fortune and a trust fund for Anna when she turns eighteen. She didn’t have to work, but Marcie insisted she create a new routine for herself, so she got applied for a part-time job at the grocery store.  </p><p>Rachel sent Marcie an email almost every day about her progress and how Anna was faring. Her last email entailed:</p><p>
  <em> Anna is sleeping better at night, but she does wake up in the middle of the night, wanting a cuddle and to be rocked. I worry that she’s dreaming about the night Daniel died. I know since she’s a baby, she doesn’t understand her father had been killed, but she misses him. Daniel had always been so good to her.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> However, I can’t say the same for myself. Some nights are better than others, but most of the time, I wake up after midnight, and I can’t go back to sleep. I keep reaching over, expecting Daniel to be there. One thing Daniel did for me was holding me when I had trouble sleeping. He’d rub my back and play with my hair until I fell asleep.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I don’t miss his cruelties, but I do miss his rare kindness. </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Quantico, Virginia</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Son of a fuckin’ bitch!” Blitzo glared at the room that had been tossed. The computer was smashed, a filing cabinet overturned, and files littered the floor.  </p><p>Blitzo stepped over the corpse tied to a chair and looked through the files. “This bitch can’t handle her cheating husband. This one can’t control her drug addicted kid! And this can’t get laid! Where the fucking fuck is Rachel!? Where the fuck is the book!?”</p><p>“Not here, sir,” Moxxie said dryly from the doorway.</p><p>“Thank you for pointing out the fucking obvious, you carpet munching asshole!”</p><p>Moxxie knelt beside the corpse of a blonde woman. Wires strapped her to the chair by the wrists and ankles. All her fingers were broken, her face covered in cuts, and the front of her nightgown ripped open to reveal a myriad of burn marks between her breasts. What ended her life was the crusted red line across her throat.</p><p>Her eyes were still opened with a death glaze with the same horrified confusion she must have been experiencing when she died.  </p><p>“Sorry,” Moxxie whispered as he passed a hand over her eyes and closed them.</p><p>“Yeah, you are. Now help me find that Rachel bitch!”</p><p>“Blitzo, he took everything. He smashed the computer, if there were any files about his wife, he took them. Face it, sir, he knew we were coming.” Moxxie wearily eyed the shotgun trap rigged to the door and kicked it over, and went to check on his wife.</p><p>Millie was stretched out on the couch, clutching towels to her torso. The bleeding had stopped, but the injuries would slow her down for a while until they healed. What saved her from being torn in two by the shotgun blast had been the door blocking most of the blast. If he had been any slower in warning her, she would have opened the doored and taken the full brunt of the trap.  </p><p>“Find any thin’, hun?” Millie asks weakly. There were shadows beneath her eyes, and her tail lay like a dead snake on the floor. </p><p>“Sorry, no. He grabbed everything about his family.” Moxxie sat down on the couch to hold his wife’s hand. “Millie, if that had killed you …”</p><p>“Aw, sugar, ya know better than that. It’s gonna take a bit more than a little shotgun to take me outta the game.” She gave him one of her brilliant smiles though tarnished by the pain lining her face. </p><p>Moxxie rubbed her hand and flinched at a crash from the next room. “The boss is in one of his fits.”</p><p>“Well, we do need that book t’ get back home.” For the first time, he saw the ghost of worry on her usually jubilant face. </p><p>“We’ll find it. I promise we’ll find it. We just have to…find another lead.”</p><p>“If it ain’t in there, it might be out here. If Marcie and Rachel were such good friends then maybe Rachel sent her somethin’ in the mail.”  </p><p>“Yeah!” Elated at the newfound hope, Moxxie squeezed her hand. “I’ll look around.”</p><p>There unpaid bills and receipts stacked in a drawer by the armchair. Some magazines were scattered on the coffee table and floor. And a newspaper crumpled up on the floor near the door. It wasn’t until he padded into the kitchen that he saw the picture of sunflowers pinned to the refrigerator with a strawberry magnet.</p><p>At the corner of the card, written in friendly curved font, Kansas: the Sunflower State. Moxxie took the card down and flipped it over.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> We made it safely to Greenwood! Thank you for everything! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Warmest Regards, Rachel and Anna Russo </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Millie, I know where they are!” Moxxie held the postcard as if it were a holy item and ran back to the main room. </p><p>It was at the moment when hope was lost and then reclaimed, they could hear familiar sirens in the distance. Moxxie’s trajectory to his wife shifted to the window, where he could see red and blue eyes flashing in the shrinking distance. He looked around at the ransacked home in dawning horror and recalled the woman tortured and murdered in the next room. </p><p>Danny had not only set a trap for them. He also tipped off the cops. </p><p>Blitzo emerged from the room and assessed the situation within milliseconds. He lifted Millie from the couch with a string of curses and made a motion with his tail to run. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Greenwood, Kansas</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The house was twenty minute walk from the bus and down a graveled road. Anna was bundled up warm in her stroller with the hood down to block out the cold wind. The wheels wriggled on the rocky path, but the stroller had a weighted center that kept its precious passenger undisturbed.  </p><p>There was chicken in the fridge a day away from going bad. She would have that for dinner, play with Anna, and put her down for bed, and then she could spend a few hours before bed to clean up a bit. The bathroom could be wiped down, and the kitchen floor sweep and moped. </p><p>
  <em> You need to find something you enjoy doing and make a hobby of it. Whether it’s watching television, exercising, or even collecting coins or stamps. You need to find joy in life again! </em>
</p><p>A hobby? There had never been time for hobbies in her life. It had always been chores and work ever since she was thirteen. Her mother always had bad back pains she treated with tramadol and alcohol. So it was down to Rachel to clean the house after school, cook meals, look after her younger brother and sister. And when she was old enough to work, she got a part-time job to supplement her mother’s disability and government checks.  </p><p>School, work, and taking care of the house had been her routine until she met Daniel.</p><p>The phone rang as she carried Anna inside. Her daughter was getting hungry and was fussy into her shoulder as she hurried to the phone. It was an old landline as she wasn’t accustomed to having a smartphone.</p><p>It might be work asking if she could take an extra shift or maybe Marcie checking in on her.  </p><p>“Hello?” The receiver was cool against her cheek, reminding her the heater was broken.  </p><p>A dull hiss answered her. She waited for a voice or any sound to indicate there was someone on the other end. “Hello? Is someone there?”</p><p>Surrorus breath rippled across the static, and an ice cube rubbed down her spine. “H-hello? Who is this?”</p><p>There was a click as the line disconnected. She hung up the phone, filled with unease and fear. It was the familiar feeling of whenever Daniel was upset with her. Those fearful moments of waiting for whatever he was going to do or say and the dire hope that it wouldn’t be too bad.</p><p>Picking up on her mood, Anna whimpered, her cherub lips quivering moments before she would start crying. Rachel made comforting noises for her and took Anna to the kitchen for a bottle.  </p><p>“It’s just a bad connection, darling. Nothing to fret about. Maybe a wrong number.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Outside of Roanoke, Virginia</b>
</p><p>Danny hung up the phone.  </p><p>Hearing Rachel’s voice summoned a wave of emotion he wasn’t familiar with. Nostalgia, hope, warmth, and even affection swam through him in a confusing whirlwind. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel until the tide of emotions settled in his gut.  </p><p>And that had been Anna cooing in the background - his little girl. He would know her soft voice from anywhere.  </p><p>Rachel was probably cooking dinner, and after she put Anna down for the night, she would do some cleaning. Rachel cleaned because she knew he liked everything orderly and neat.  </p><p>Propped against the truck’s dashboard was a photo he took from that bitch Marcie’s house. Rachel was sitting on a chair with Anna sitting on her knees, giving the camera a neutral look while her mother offered a shy smile. His wife never liked having her picture taken.  </p><p>He touched the photo with a loving touch, stroking Rachel and Anna’s image with possessive affection.  </p><p>“I’m coming, sweetheart, and we’re going to start fresh again and this time . . .this time I’ll never let you get away from me again.”</p><p> </p><p>   </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Bad News</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>The body of a social worker, Marcie Gibson, was discovered in her home outside of Quantico. Reports state that the suspects' description matches those of the three suspects leading the high-speed chase across Pennsylvania. Police suspect the culprits headed south, away from Quantico. Police also warn the suspects should be considered armed and dangerous and should not be approached. If you see the suspects or have any information, please contact your local law enforcement or 911.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The deceased Marcie Gibson has left behind . . .</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny switched off the radio, his thoughts drifting back to the night when he broke into Marcie’s home and questioned her. He had to shove a rag almost down her throat to muffle her screams at the sight of him. Then he had to wait until her hysteria passed before he could start the questioning. She had been tough, resisting even after he broke her fingers. He had to get creative with a curling iron.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But in the end, she told him where she kept her files. Where Rachel had taken Anna, and he had gone through her computer and found the emails and in the files found Rachel’s phone number in Kansas. Now he was on Highway 64, heading east as the sunset before him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny was certain he had covered his tracks well, but since the imps evaded his trap and escaped the cops, he wasn’t going to leave it to chance they wouldn’t pick up his trail again. Rachel and Marcie had been close, so most likely, she had something hidden away from his wife that could tip them off to Greenwood, Kansas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With fingers tapping on the steering wheel, he weighed his meager options. His ties with his old unit in the US government would have serious questions of why one of their deceased agents was suddenly calling in favors. Good thing he had contacts outside of proper channels, most of which would not have heard of his demise.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His only hope was his old contacts still answered their old numbers.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is just fucking wonderful! Just one pile of hot shit of a day!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moxxie barely listened to the tirade behind, seeing Millie’s injuries as she lay panting on the ground. They had begun bleeding again during the flight from the cops. Her face was strained from pain, and she had passed out several times over the last hour. Moxxie wondered if there was some water nearby he could get for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We fucking sunk like a piece of hit in the toilet!” Blitzo cried, dropping to his knees in a long wail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not having any patience, Moxxie shoved the postcard into Blitzo’s face as he walked by. “I’m going to get water for Millie, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a park nearby. It was still dark and empty, with the humans gone home for the night. Moxxie found a locked convenience store with a sign offering bottled water. It took a few blows with the butt of his gun to knock the lock off the chain. Listening intently for any humans or alarms, he went inside and grabbed as much food and drinks as he could carry. He even took the money from the till as it may become useful later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human world was oddly peaceful without humans in it. Maybe Hell would be peaceful, too, if there were no demons. Moxxie liked the quiet. It gave him time to think and calm down when excited.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who the hell was Danny? He was a Sinner, a mortal soul damned to Hell, but who was he before then? Most Sinners Moxxie had met loved hedonist lifestyles or bitter about a perceived slight in the living world which funded their business. Danny had higher aspirations than revenge; he fully intended to return to his family, and then what? Continue existing in the living world as if he had never died? The humans would never allow that! He doubted Heaven or Hell would allow it either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And sure, Danny knew that as well. He didn’t strike Moxxie as someone who didn’t plan ahead. He had ingratiated himself into the Family to steal their money, tricked Blitzo, sent them into a trap, stole the book from Loona, and set them up to take the fall for murdering Marcie Gibson. So what did Danny have planned for his family?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moxxie recalled the friendly human’s story about Danny’s abusing his wife. Rachel must have been glad and liberated at her husband's death, and if he was to show up on her doorstep, changed and even more dangerous … </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They needed to get to Rachel before Danny. Whatever Danny has planned would mean going into hiding, and Moxxie had a bad feeling that if the Sinner didn’t want to be found, they would never see the book again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And without the book… how would they ever return home?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of it quickened his walking into a full run. They had no time to waste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After some water and food, Millie had recovered more of her strength and could stand on her own, though not without pain. Moxxie stayed close to give her his support if she needed it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blitzo was already planning their route, but they would need a car as soon as possible to reduce the headstart Danny had on them. Thankfully, there was a parking lot just full of cars nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A dealership reports a red Cadillac had been stolen off their parking lot in the late hours last night. The thieves caused thousands of dollars worth of damages when they drove the car through the dealership windows.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel turned down the news when the phone rang. Danny never liked the tv to be too loud when he was on the phone. Oh, she did it again. Marcie said she would accept he was gone in time, but it was these small habits she couldn’t break.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna was having her morning tummy time as Rachel reached over and picked up the phone from the table end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this Mrs. Russo? Rachel Russo?” It was a man’s voice, gruff, tired, and apprehensive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes? This is Rachel Russo,” she said tentatively.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might remember me. Officer Henry Douglass in Quantico. . .I worked your husband’s case . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel felt her blood turn cold. “I . . .I remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I have . . .well, I have some bad news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your husband’s grave . . .it’s been disturbed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no. Did someone spray paint the stone?” She had heard of people desecrating military gravesites in protest of some government action or decision.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No ma’am . . .they dug up the body.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only sound in the living room was Anna having a babbling conversation with a stuffed toy. Rachel held the phone to her ear, nonplussed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They stole his dog tags and wedding ring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh . . .I . . .I see . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are putting things to right and launching a full investigation into this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I don’t . . .I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure it’s shocking, but we are treating this with the utmost delicacy and seriousness, I can assure you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, officer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a short pause, and she could hear him breathing on the other end. Was he waiting for her to hang up? Or did he have something more to say?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I . . .I have some more bad news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” What could be worse than Danny’s grave being robbed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s your friend . . .Marcie Gibson. She was found murdered in her home late yesterday evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel felt the world drop from beneath her, and she was spiraling into space. A numbness came over her, and she could barely hear herself speak. “What . . .what happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re still investigating, but we suspect it was a robbery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m very sorry for your loss. We’ve already alerted her family and since you were so close with her and she was involved with what happened with your husband, I thought I would pass along this information.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was weeping silent tears when she hung up. Little Anna rolled onto her side to stare at her mother, confusion wrinkling her round face.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Crash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He tried three numbers until he finally got an answer. The phone rang nearly four times before an answer from a ragged voice with a thick accent.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Si, que es?”  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny went into fluid Spanish. “Emilio, remember me? Daniel Russo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of pause, which Danny assumed was for recollection. It had been a few years, but he was confident he left enough of an impact for memory.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Si, Danny, what shit hole you’ve been hidin’ in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s been a while. Is Jose still alive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but he’s doin’ twenty five to life in Red State.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit. That’s a shame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want, you mean bastard?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you have a chapter in Ohio?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a crackle and scraping noise. Danny could imagine the biker president scratching the stubble on his chin. “Yeah, what about ‘em?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got a job for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kinda job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ten grand. Half now and half after the job is done. There are three assholes driving a red Cadillac going west on I-64.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want them grabbed or killed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whichever stops them,” Danny grinned at himself in the rearview mirror, closing all but his two prominent eyes. No, that didn’t make him look human anymore. He lacked a prominent nose, and the eyes were still wrong.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, send the money. Once it’s clear, I’ll send word to Ohio.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was after several hours on the road that Moxxie had voiced his opinion. “Shouldn’t we call Rachel Russo and warn her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blitzo twisted around in the seat, despite being the driver, and eyed Moxxie with a bleary glare. “What the fuck are you on about, ya little shit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well . . .we know Danny is going after her. Maybe we need to call ahead and tell her to hide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck would we want to do that?” Blitzo demanded, giving the road enough attention to avoid driving off a sharp curve. “Her little ass needs to stay exactly where she is so we know where Danny is heading.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but she’s a . . .she’s a civilian and she has a baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” Blitzo snapped. “She’s human! Humans die all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that! But . . .this is different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moxxie looked to Millie for support or give him the words he was failing to find to convince Blitzo around to his way of thinking, but she was sleeping off her injuries in the backseat, her head on his lap.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . . I don’t know . . .but . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t know, then don’t fuckin’ distract me! I’m trying to catch up with the fucker . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The car swerved sharply to avoid the jogger who barely leaped out of the way. If the imps were paying attention in the rearview mirror, they would see the jogger shouting and giving them the finger, but their conversation was too important for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t even know the bitch’s number!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know where she is. We could look her up online.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moxxie never got to hear Blitzo’s answer. With Blitzo’s attention on Moxxie, he didn’t notice the steel spikes lying across the road spring up. They shredded the tires instantly, and the car bucked, swerving out of control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Blitzo rasped, struggling to regain control of the vehicle.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the backseat, Moxxie shielded Millie with his body, keeping her from being tossed about when the car went off an escarpment and rolled into a ditch. Metal screeched around them, broken glass peppered their bodies, and the world upended them, throwing them about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blitzo smelled glass and blood when he regained consciousness. Raising his head made him realize he had a concussion as his vision swam before him. He rose to his feet, assessing his body for damages. Nothing was broken, bruised as fucked, but he could still move.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him was the whine of broken metal and screen as a torn wheel spun in the empty air. The car was on its side, cradled in a deep ditch with the passenger side caved in. The front window was broken from where he had been thrown through it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mox . . .Millie?” He walked stiffly, noticing his foot, while not broken, was badly sprained. Sharp pain lanced through his leg as he limped to the wreck. “Mox! Answer me, goddammit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bl . . .Blitzo . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Moxxie’s voice, and chillingly, he was calling him by name and not his moniker of ‘sir.’ “Mox! Where the fuck are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a tinkle of broken glass, and Blitzo saw movement from the crevasse of the ditch. He hurried over as quickly as his limp would allow him and dropped onto his hands and knees. A pained amber eye peered at him, and then Millie’s upper torso was pushed through the broken window, which was twisted into a small hole, just large enough for a small imp to squeeze through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get her out of here, sir, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Millie was in one piece but was scored with shallow cuts from the broken glass. Blitzo dragged her clear of the wreckage and went back for Moxxie. “Alright, you next.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck you mean you can’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My foot . . .it’s trapped under something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit . . .” Blitzo reached in and grabbed Moxxie’s arms and pulled.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small imp cried out in pain that ended in a shriek, but Moxxie was no closer to being freed. Blitzo smelled gas and cursed foully in impish as he struggled to find another opening within the wreck. If he could find what was pinning Moxxie’s foot, he could free him before a spark hit the gas. Imps were impervious to fire, but an explosion with shrapnel flying could tear one apart.        </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind carried the roar of engines - a lot of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddammit . . .’ Blitzo hissed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir . . .Blitzo . . .you have to go. Get Millie somewhere safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just . . .I just need a minute . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have a minute!” Moxxie’s painful moan turned into an angry growl. “Go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The engines were getting louder and louder. With another foul curse, Blitzo gathered up Millie and turned to the wreck. “I’ll come back for you, Mox.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, as Blitzo carried Millie through the thick copse of trees, many yards away, he could hear the roar of engines and voices of humans. There were gunshots, a few cries of indignation, and returning fire.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better have killed several of them, Moxxie, you little bastard,” Blitzo grumbled. “It wouldn’t kill you to make it easier for me to find you . . .or . . .avenge you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Danny was driving past a large billboard sign that read.  </span>
  <b>Welcome to Greenwood, Kansas.</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Rachel and Danny</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sorry, you're gonna have to wait to see what happened to our favorite imps.  For now, get a load of Danny and Rachel centric chapter.<br/>Trigger warning for domestic abuse!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The car parked at the mouth of the road. Condensation formed on the window, blocking out the outside world. The air inside the car was cold, but Danny barely noticed it. The tip of the cigarette flared as he puffed it, his mind slogging through old memories.  </p><p>He hadn’t lied to Blitzo about when he met Rachel. It had been in a bar in Quantico, during one of his off duty hours when he wanted to unwind after numerous hours of training and lessons. She had been with a group of girls her age, all of them dressed to draw the eye of potential mates like preening birds and chirruping laughs, but not her. Rachel was so shy . . .no demure compared to the harlots flashing flesh at any glance their way. They had allowed her to tagalong as a designated driver, so she was sipping from an innocuous soda can while they imbibed to their heart’s content.</p><p>The second he laid eyes upon her, he knew. He knew without a shadow’s doubt, she was the one for him. All other women paled in comparison to what she could offer him. She belonged to him; she just didn’t know it yet.    </p><p>When he approached her, she rose, offering him her seat, believing he wanted to sit beside one of her companions. Her utter shock of how he was interested in her was only matched by the girls' owlish stares.  </p><p>While they were dressed to be looked at - gaudy clothing that revealed more than they hid, flashing jewelry, and caked makeup - Rachel dressed modestly in an old church dress, very little makeup, and her hair brushed straight. She was a wallflower who happened to be such and had no idea of what to do with him.</p><p>“You were scared of me even then,” he said aloud to himself, rubbing the ring on his finger. </p><p>The terror wasn’t for her life or body, but of her social stance and emotions. She didn’t believe someone like him, a man almost ten years her senior and very handsome with a good job, would ever be interested in a high school dropout who cleaned houses for a living. It took some cajoling, but he got her number and made up a date the following night.  </p><p>And then, a month later, they married. There was no wedding, just a short trip to the courthouse with one of her old classmates and his coworker serving as witnesses. He could have afforded a wedding, he had the money for it as her trailer park mother certainly couldn’t foot the bill, but his Rachel was never one for crowds or parties. She preferred the quiet and peaceful surroundings.</p><p>Which explained why she chose to move into a house you traveled by a dirt road to get to. She enjoyed isolation, and he loved her for it as she was a private person . . .and knew how to keep secrets.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Rachel wanted to go back to Quantico for Marcie’s funeral, but . . .was too scared. She didn’t know how to drive, and taking a plane was too overwhelming, especially with a baby. Marcie had helped her move and driven her to Greenwood, and now Rachel felt so foolish for never learning how to drive.</p><p>And . . .she was too afraid of going back to her hometown and reliving unwanted memories.  </p><p>Daniel’s funeral had been a small affair. He had no family, and since no one on her side of the family liked him nor cared, no one came. It was just her and Anna. Marcie had been there, but only to support her. Seeing Daniel’s empty graveside made her sad for him. And so very guilty.</p><p>He had friends, buddies he watched the game with, but once word got out about what he been doing to her, there had been numerous apologies, plenty of baked goods and casseroles, and so many, many condolences. They looked at her as if she were a kicked puppy and spoke to her as if she were a simple-minded child.</p><p>Maybe they weren’t too far off. She didn’t feel smart.  </p><p>When they thought she couldn’t hear, someone whispered, “I will never understand why girls like her choose to stay with men who beat them. It’s just stupid, if you ask me.”</p><p>Maybe she was stupid. She didn’t like it whenever Daniel hit her. It hurt and made her cry, but she was too scared of what he would do if she tried to leave him. She tried to do so once and . . .and he cried. It was the only time since she met him that he had shed tears.  </p><p>
  <em> Baby, I’ll die without you. I love you too much to let you leave me.   </em>
</p><p>And it made her feel bad. Her mother said men don't cry, which had to be a testament of how much he loved her if he was weeping for her to stay with him. And he promised not to hit her ever again . . .a promise he kept for almost two weeks.</p><p>Marcie had said Daniel was one of those people who were skilled manipulators. They would say or do anything to get their way, even shed tears to win sympathy. Either Daniel truly did love her, or she was too stupid to realize it was a trick. And she didn’t feel smart at all.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>
  <em> I’m different. </em>
</p><p>That was an understatement as he stared down at his four hands covered in fine fur with his six of eight eyes. Why couldn’t he have been one of those human-like demons without the fur?</p><p>When he first fell to Hell, it had taken time to adjust to his new body - coordinating between the extra arms, having vision through eight eyes. Keeping the smaller two eyes closed helped him focus. Once he mastered his own body, he enjoyed the incredible benefits it granted him. With all of his eyes, he could shoot with excellent accuracy with more than one gun, and with his extra limbs, he was more lethal in hand to hand combat and stronger.  </p><p>Now it was all a hindrance whenever he thought of his baby. What if she became frightened of him? It would kill him if she was too scared for him to hold her again. And would he dare touch her soft baby skin with these hands? He could imagine touching Rachel, but not Anna. Her chubby little fingers should never clutch these.</p><p>For the first time since he could remember, he was second-guessing his actions. Was this the right thing? There was no doubt - she belonged with him, and not being damned to Hell could break that bond he had with her. Anna . . . was too precious.  </p><p>A voice at the deep part of his psyche made itself heard.</p><p>
  <em> It’s not too late. You still have the book. You can go back and leave them alone. </em>
</p><p>It was a voice he rarely heard, much less listened to. He thought of it as his inner critic who tried to get him to go against his instincts.</p><p>There was movement ahead of them. Lifting his eyes, he could see them - Rachel and Anna. Slim, small, and pretty Rachel was bundled up in a thick winter coat pushing a stroller which carried a swaddled Anna who was peering through a hood and teething on bright red mittens.</p><p>Emotions, both running cold and hot, swarmed through him like a tangle of snakes. Seeing Rachel brought forward desire and anger, love, and irritation. And Anna, his precious Anna, an emotion so powerful it made his throat go tight as he swallowed it back. It took will power he didn’t know he possessed not to get out of the car and reclaim them now.</p><p>No, no, it wasn’t time yet. It was too open, too public. Their reunion was private, personal.   </p><p>Once the emotions passed, he was able to think clearly and had questions. Why the fucking hell was Rachel taking Anna out in cold weather!? Was she out of her goddamn mind?  </p><p>Several towns ago, he had ditched the truck and stolen a brown sedan with tinted windows, which allowed him to see without being seen in return. He waited until Rachel turned onto the street before starting the car to follow them.  </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>He was parked at the edge of the grocery store parking lot and waited for Rachel to come out. She had dropped Anna off at a daycare!? Why!? Did she not realize how many germs other people’s children had!? She had no idea if the daycare workers were properly taking care of their daughter or not! Does she not pay attention to news reports of people abusing or molesting children in daycare centers or allowing children to bully toddlers and babies!?</p><p>As he fumed in the car, waiting for her to finish her shopping, but when an hour passed, he had a sinking suspicion it would be hours before she emerged. Did she . . .did she get a fucking job!? He left her enough money to ensure she lived a comfortable life of taking care of Anna, and she works in a goddamn grocery store for fucking minimum wage!?  </p><p>He loved Rachel. He loved her dearly, but damn if she didn’t piss him off with her stupid and thoughtless ways! Three months dead, and she was already making dumb decisions!</p><p>She was always careless! Like that time with the screen door!</p><p>Rachel had returned from taking Anna for a doctor’s appointment and shopping drip and was trying to carry both Anna and a bag of groceries into the house at the same time. She pushed open the screen doors with her shoulder ace, and it bounced open and swung back. It would have smacked Anna’s soft er tender head if he hadn’t been there to catch it.  </p><p>Rachel knew she was in trouble when she saw his face. “Daniel . . .”</p><p>“Give me Anna.”  </p><p>Once he had safely deposited Anna into her crib in the nursery, he returned to the kitchen where a trembling Rachel was trying to put away the groceries . . .as if she didn’t almost give their daughter a concussion.  </p><p>He knew it was an effort to appease him by putting away the groceries before he returned, but her offense was too great to be assuaged without punishment. He seized her by the shoulder and hauled her to the screen door.</p><p>“Daniel . . .no, no, please . . .I’m sorry!”</p><p>“You were being stupid and lazy again!” He shook her by the arm, hard enough to leave bruises that would show up tonight. “Trying to carry everything in one trip and put Anna in danger!”</p><p>“I’m sorry! I didn’t want to be late making dinner. You get mad when dinner is late . . .”</p><p>“So it’s my fucking fault!? You’re blaming me!?”</p><p>“No!”  </p><p>Holding her in place with one hand, he grabbed the screen door and swung it hard. The metal frame smacked her skull with enough force it rattled in the hinges. She moaned like a lowing cow and clutched at her head.  </p><p>Giving her another shake, he barked, “Feel that pain! That’s what Anna would be feeling if you weren’t so careless! Jesus! What would happen if I wasn’t around!?”</p><p>“I’m sorry . . .” She sobbed, tears spilling down her face.  </p><p>The temptation to hit her with the screen door again was strong, but he determined the lesson had been learned. Now he can forgive her.  </p><p>He drew her close, taking her face with both hands and kissing her forehead. “Hey, it’s okay now. Just don’t let it happen again, okay?”</p><p>“Sorry, Daniel,” she whimpered in that cute way he liked.  </p><p>“Baby, it hurts me to have to correct you like this, okay? Be more careful when it comes to Anna, alright?”</p><p>“Yes, Daniel, I’m sorry.” She was openly weeping now and clinging to him, so grateful for his forgiveness. “It won’t happen again! I promise!”</p><p>“Good girl.”</p><p>It seemed she had forgotten the lesson, and he would have to teach her all over again.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Rachel, did you get your heater fixed yet?”  </p><p>Derrick seemed to loom over her. She was sitting at the table eating a microwaved sandwich and brooding over Marcie’s death between bites. When she looked up, Derrick noticed her red eyes.</p><p>“Hey, are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m sorry . . .” She wiped at her eyes, wishing she had washed her face in the bathroom sink before lunch.  </p><p>“Were you crying?” Derrick asked, sitting across from her.  </p><p>“No . . .” She wasn’t supposed to lie. Daniel didn’t like liars. Before she could remind herself that Daniel was dead, she said, “I got bad news a friend of mine had died.”</p><p>“Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Derrick’s face softened with sympathy. “You shoulda called in so you can stay home and process.”</p><p>“No, I . . .I need to work. It’s been busy.”</p><p>“Yeah, because the weather forecast says it’s going to be a snow storm tomorrow night. People are stocking up. You should take a bag of groceries home with you.”</p><p>A sharp pain went through her skull in memory of carrying Anna and a bag of groceries through a screen door. “I’ll . . .I’ll be careful with them.”</p><p>“Uh, alright, I’m sure you will be,” Derrick seemed confused by her comment. “I was going to ask you if you got your heater fixed yet. You’ll need it tomorrow night.”</p><p>“Oh . . .I . . .no, I don’t have it fixed yet . . .”</p><p>“Do you want me to come over? You don’t work on Saturdays and the store will close early because of the storm, so I can come over and fix it for you.”</p><p>Daniel would be furious if she allowed a man inside her house. But Daniel was dead. And Anna would be cold, and Daniel wouldn’t like that. And she wouldn’t like it either.  </p><p>“Okay,” she said.</p><p>***</p><p>Any doubts she had about having Derrick over was gone when she felt the chill in the wind. It cut through her clothes and made her worry, Anna wouldn’t be warm enough on the trip home. Maybe she should learn how to drive so they could ride in a warm car instead of walking. She never had time to learn, and Daniel never saw a reason to teach her.</p><p>Marcie said it would be alright to learn how to drive, but Rachel didn’t believe she could. Driving had a lot of rules, and she wasn’t smart enough to learn all of them. What if she wrecked the car and Anna got hurt?</p><p>Anne seemed alright. She was avidly watching the passing cars as the stroller rolled along the street. Sometimes she saw something interested and cooed at it as if in greeting. Rachel could see Daniel in her eyes sometimes.</p><p>She and Daniel had such a beautiful relationship. Her first smile was for him, and when Daniel spoke to her, she tried to talk back, stringing together consonants to match his tone. She was such a smart baby. She must have gotten it from Daniel. Definitely not from her.</p><p>When it became dark, she remembered the nights when Daniel would get a phone call late at night. Daniel had a phone he kept in a case under the bed. It had a loud ring that would wake them both from the deepest sleep. He would wake up and answer the phone. It was a short exchange, very straightforward, with little to no pleasantries.</p><p>Then Daniel would hang up and tell her, “I’m gonna be gone for a while, Rachel.”</p><p>Rachel knew he worked for the government but never knew exactly what he did. He trained students at the FBI Academy and sometimes assisted with investigations, but sometimes he left on assignments for weeks at a time.</p><p>While he packed a bag, she would go to the kitchen to make coffee and a sandwich for him. Even past midnight, she would make him a sandwich and coffee for him when he left. It was a ritual they shared, and it was one of the few times she felt safe around him. He didn’t become angry or impatient with her while he readied to leave home.  </p><p>Then he would come into the kitchen, eat the sandwich, drink the coffee, then kiss her goodbye. She would see him to the door and wave goodbye to him as he took the car to the airport where a private jet was waiting.  </p><p>It was during those days and weeks he was gone that she could relax. She would clean the house from top to bottom, do all the laundry, and reseed the lawn so Daniel would return to a lovely home. He was always in a good mood when he came home, and he was so kind, bringing her a gift from wherever he had been. He brought her beauty products from France, clothes from Tokyo, and spices from the Middle East.</p><p>Rachel felt guilty for being glad he was gone on assignment. He had done so much for her and given her everything. She lived in a lovely home, with worse nice clothes, and they had Anna. She loved Daniel, so she shouldn’t be glad he was away on assignment.  </p><p>Sometimes she forgot Daniel was dead and would believe he was away on assignment. When the phone rang, and for a split second, she believed it was him calling to check on her or tell her he was returning home. But he never would return . . .and she didn’t know how to feel about it.</p><p>It took a while to put Anna down for the night. She had been fussy and colicky lately. Rachel suspected she was beginning to teeth, but no little white teeth have made their appearance so far. Maybe she should take Anna to the doctor once the snow clears.  </p><p>Sometimes at night, when she lay in bed with the covers tucked around her, she missed the solid weight of Daniel’s body next to hers. He never got angry with her in bed as she always did whatever he wanted. Sometimes it hurt, but as long as he was happy, he couldn’t be mad at her.  </p><p>“Daniel, I’m sorry,” she whimpered as a hot tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry I was such a bad wife.”</p><p>***</p><p>Even an amateur could have gotten through the lock on the door. Rachel really needed to give more mind to home security . . .well, she didn’t need to do so anymore . . .he was back.  </p><p>The house was smaller than the one back in Quantico but clean. Rachel knew how to keep a clean house - that was one of the few things he could rely on her for without fail. He never returned to a cluttered or dirty house, and she had a routine of keeping house, and whenever there was a spill or mishap, it became her priority to put things to right.  </p><p>He smelled her through the living room and kitchen. She bathed with floral-scented soap and shampoo, and the nostalgia made him ache for her.  </p><p>Her bedroom door was open, likely so she could hear Anna crying from down the hall. Danny stood in the door, locking out the dim light of the hallway lamp she left on, lightly to make it easy to see her way to Anna’s nursery. All four hands gripped the doorjamb as all of his six open eyes drank in the body curled beneath thick blankets. He wanted to join her, but there was something he had to do first.</p><p>Anna was awake and making fussing noises from the crib. Her little keens promised to turn into cries if she didn’t get attention soon. Where he wouldn’t have hesitated to reunite with Rachel, being a demon spider or not be damned, it was his daughter he feared upsetting with his appearance.</p><p>Again that little voice in the back of his head whispered.</p><p>
  <em> It’s not too late. You can leave, go back to Hell, and leave them undisturbed. You’re dead. </em>
</p><p>“I’ve come this far.”</p><p>His voice startled him, making him believe there was someone else in the room other than his tearful daughter, whose whimpering was beginning to rise in volume. Rachel was a light sleeper, and seeing him in the hall like this wasn’t his idea of a reunion.  </p><p>Closing the door behind him, he crossed the room to the crib, closing all but save his prominent eyes. Rachel had dressed Anna in pink footie pajamas with a large-eyed duckling on the front. Her round little face was mournful with tender lips puckered into a pout, and tiny hands clenched into fists no bigger than large strawberries. Tearful blue eyes peered up at him as her mouth trembled.</p><p>“Hello, baby girl,” he said.</p><p>It was like watching a sunrise or a flower blooming. Anna blinked up at him in confusion for a space of a heartbeat before she glowed with a brilliant smile for him. Her whining turned into an excited little squeal, and she kicked her legs, heels thumping the blanket beneath her.  </p><p>With the ease of a loving father, he picked her up and settled her against his chest. “Hi, sweetheart, you got so big.”</p><p>Anna patted his face, prompting him to open his eyes, which she stared at in utter fascination. He laid his cheek against hers, kissing her tiny ear and patting her back as he did a slow pace with her.</p><p>His jaw unclenched, the tension in his shoulders unlocked, and something that had been coiled within him slowly unrivaled. A surge of tenderness that only Anna could invoked filled him into a euphoria that was impossible to experience in Hell.  </p><p>With a voice raw with emotion, he said, “Daddy’s home, sweetheart. Daddy isn’t going anywhere ever again.”         </p><p>        </p><p>             </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Uneasy Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was cold. Colder than she had anticipated. Rachel rose, used the bathroom, and checked the time. It was almost 1:00 in the morning, too early to rise, but she didn’t feel like going back to bed. She should check on Anna and make sure she was warm, at least.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daniel would want her to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nursery door was open. She had left it open so she could hear Anna cry at night. But the door was open wider . . .maybe she didn’t notice how wide the door had been when she left it open. However, a shudder when done her spine as she padded into the nursery which she blamed the cold for . . .until she saw the empty crib.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For seconds, her mind went through an array of answers - she forgot to put Anna down for the night, Anna was sleeping in her bed, Anna had climbed out - until she settled on the horrific nightmare for any parent. Someone had stolen her child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This would never have happened if Daniel had been here. He would never have allowed anyone inside the house. He would never allow anyone to hurt Anna. She was just stupid poor Rachel who couldn’t keep her child safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Police. She had to call the police . . .that’s what a mother should do.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone was in the kitchen. As she hurried down the hall, she froze in place. The kitchen light was on.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She never left any lights on at night save for the hallway light. Daniel would never allow any light left on at night. It was part of her bedtime ritual to make sure all the doors and windows were locked and the lights off.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were movement and Anna cooing behind the door. Someone had Anna in the room. The only phone in the house was the kitchen. Oh, if only she had a smartphone like Daniel carried with him, they were so expensive.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna was in there . . .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel opened the door with a pounding heart. “Anna?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her daughter was sitting in a high chair munching on baby cereal puffs. The refrigerator door was open, and someone very tall was peering inside, their face blocked off by the door.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t get any lettuce, Rachel,” a voice that made her bones turn to water said with the familiarity of someone in their own kitchen. “Shame. Can’t have a good sandwich without lettuce.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a dream. It had to be a dream. “They didn’t have the romaine lettuce you like Daniel . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then it’s a pretty shitty grocery store.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Daniel stood. Rachel stared at what could only be described as a monster - four arms, six eyes, chestnut fur - standing at seven feet, loomed over her. However . . .she knew him. From his voice, the way he closed the door, and how all six eyes regarded her expectantly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay . . .it’s okay . . .I’m not mad. I’m too happy to see you again to be mad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This . . .this isn’t real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is real, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, her lips quivered as she struggled to process what she was seeing and hearing. It was too surreal to be possible, even in a dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here, baby . . .” He held out his lower arms for her while his upper hands held a block of cheese and mayonnaise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t move. “You died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I came back for you and Anna.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is real, sweetheart. Want a sandwich?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-how?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A veil crossed his eyes, a sudden coolness which was a warning sign he was about to get angry. She instinctively drew back until her back was against the wall. Then his expression changed to one with a friendly smile. “You don’t have to be scared of me, Rachel. I’m not mad. I’ll tell you all about it after a sandwich, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daniel was in a good mood, which meant he didn’t want to get angry with her. Unless she did something, he had to hurt her for. And not listening to him was a good reason.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay . . .”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daniel said there was no life after death. That was why he never bothered with going to church and stopped her from going after they married. He said going to church was a waste of time and took away the ‘rest’ religion proclaimed they were supposed to do Sundays.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not going to church was a significant change for Rachel as her grandmother took her to church each Sunday since she was a child. Every Sunday morning, she wore a Sunday dress and waited on the front porch for grandma to pick her up in an old station wagon. When she stopped going, it was like . . .a new world on Sundays. Sunday became a typical day like any other save for some places being closed for worship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Daniel died, she tried to get herself back into the habit again, but it was harder with everyone staring and whispering when they thought she couldn’t hear them. So she wisely stopped going and couldn’t gather enough courage to bring herself to go to the Methodist GreenWood church.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Daniel was telling her different. There was life after death, and he had come back from the dead to be with her again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daniel . . .why do you . . .look . . .” No, she shouldn’t point out the obvious; he’ll get angry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We get new bodies when we die, sweetheart,” Daniel explained. “I think it's so we can survive in the after life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But . . .What about feathered wings? And halos?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, “It’s not like what they preach in church?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How would he know when he never went to church?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She dismissed the thought. Daniel was always smarter than her and knew a lot of things she didn’t. And since he was back from the dead, then would certainly know about it than any preacher or priest.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daniel . . .what . . .I don’t know what this means . . .aren’t you . . .still mad at me?” She clutched her hands together on her knees to keep them from shaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, sweetheart, no, I’m not mad at you. I was . . .I’m pissed at that Marcie bitch for putting stupid ideas in your head.” He grinned kindly, which she recognized as Daniel’s gentle smiles, but it was alien on the face of the monster he was now. “I keep telling you she’s one of those snooty feminist bitches that can’t mind their own fucking business and want to make everything into some disaster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She . . .she said it’s not right for you to hit me,” Rachel felt the tears well up in her eyes as she remembered the first time Marcie noticed her bruises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel had always been careful to hide her marks of shame, which showed she was incompetent and stupid. Marcie had come over to check on the blind woman when she came over to ask to borrow some eggs. Rachel had carelessly worn a short sleeve short when she answered the door, and Marcie had seen the line of bruises on her arm from where Daniel had grabbed her arm the night before. After that, Marcie came over almost every day and only on days when Daniel was away at the Academy or on the weeks he was away.            </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And . . .baby, she’s right. It’s not right I hit you,” Daniel said softly, a hand sliding across the table towards her. “It breaks my heart everytime I do it. You’re so small and pretty and I shouldn’t have been hurting you like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to touch her, but Rachel was scared of him doing so, but she was more terrified of what he would do if she didn’t let him. He touched her arm, and her skin prickled as the claws traced her shoulder.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be different this time, sweetheart,” Daniel said, drawing his fingers down the bend of her elbow and forearm. His hand wrapped around hers, and she recognized the ring on his finger. It had been the one Daniel had been buried with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-did you dig up your grave? A police officer called and said someone robbed your grave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, I did. I had to get my dog tags and wedding ring,” he let go of her hand to rub a finger on the band. It looked odd and alien to see it on the spidery talon of the monster now. “Til death to we part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But you parted! You died! We can’t be married anymore!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rachel didn’t voice any of these treacherous thoughts. Daniel would get mad, and he loved her and said hitting her wasn’t right, so he wouldn’t do it anymore.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He said the same thing before when you were pregnant. And while he did keep that promise, he broke it after Anna was born. Remember the screen door? Remember when he pushed you so hard you fell?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a voice inside her head, but it sounded like Marcie’s voice, and it made her so sad knowing that Marcie was dead.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Marcie was dead . . .his grave dug up . . .Daniel had been in Quantico . . .</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Rivers of chills flowed through her body, and she looked at Daniel, who she knew hated Marcie so much. Did he . . .? Was he the one who . . .?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even thinking it made her shiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I’m scared, Daniel. I don’t know what to think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, I know it’s an adjustment, but you’ll get used to the new me soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want to. I want you to go away and never ever come back. You were supposed to never come back. I was so happy, and Anna was safe . . .</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her daughter was perched on Daniel’s knee, happily mewing as if part of the conversation and didn’t seem to mind the large hands supporting her balance. Anna still loved Daniel even though . . .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An uneasy twinge of guilt wormed its way through her stomach as she tried to comprehend these feelings of relief and fear. Something wasn’t right about any of this; however, she couldn’t see what it could be. If she was smarter, she could see it and maybe know what to say or do.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel, baby, what are you thinking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice carried a familiar silent warning. He wanted to know what she was thinking, but if she didn’t think what he wanted her to think, then there would be trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m tired . . .” Rachel said, taking the safe road. “And its late . . .Anna needs to go back to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll put Anna back to bed,” Daniel replied, drawing the baby against his chest. “You go onto bed. I’ll sleep on the couch for tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For tonight!?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A heavy, heavy weight dropped into Rachel’s stomach as she read the meaning in his words. Even though getting used to his new body was an adjustment, it better happen by tomorrow night.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or there would be trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Rot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Moxxie wasn’t dead.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was plenty of imp blood at the site, but there had been tracks of human footsteps and tire tracks.  Whoever set up the ambush took him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Blitzo intended to amend that little problem.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bigger problem was convincing Millie to stay behind.  While she had recovered significantly since Danny’s trap, she was still half of what she was at full health.  Blitzo needed stealth and speed on his side, and while Millie was a ferocious fighter being an imp of the Wrath Ring, she wasn’t as stealthy as her husband or boss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, she did acquiesce to staying with the truck they stole from outside of a gas station.  And it was only on the grounds to protect their getaway vehicle when Blitzo rescued Moxxie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tracking down Moxxie was easier than expected.  While stealing the truck, Blitzo overheard two humans, both in leather biker jackets, talking about some sort of event at the Hounder Barn involving some ‘little red fella.’  It was simple enough to shoot one of them and force the other to tell him the location of the said barn before cutting his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Blitzo was crouching low to the ground, moving through the foliage towards a light beaming through the trees.  Humans were laughing and drinking.  There were fighting over some debt or woman; Blitzo didn’t care enough to learn which.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sticking close to the shadows, he crawled beneath parked cars, moving only when no human eyes could possibly see him.  While he considered setting something on fire, but until he knew where they were keeping Moxxie, it may be a wasted effort - though it would be fun to watch these humans run away like the frightened vermin they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s 5 to 1 on Bowtie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blitzo looked up with narrowing eyes at the two humans leaning against the truck he was under.  He could only see their dirty boots, and one had steel toe caps on theirs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know where Miguel found the little bastard, but it’s a tough littler fucker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno, it’s going against Rex t’night.  That one’s part wolf or hyena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on what it uses.  If it’s just a broken bottle, Rex’s gonna win, but if Bowtie gets a decent knife, then maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blitzo heard enough and moved towards the edge of the barn.  The large doors were chained shut, but there was enough space for an imp to squeeze through.  He was greeted by the odor of animals and feces underlined with fear and pain.  There were cages group together, which was the source of whining and barking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dogs in all states of injury and scarring stared at him as he approached.  Some of them cowered, and others growled as they searched the cages until he found what he was looking for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moxxie was lying on his side, clothes in tatters and body covered in injuries - lacerations and bite marks.  Blitzo knew he was conscious as he was idly stroking the dark fur of a dog in the cage next to his.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blitzo didn’t understand how he was feeling and understood less about how to express it.  So he decided to go with, “Hey, Mox, ya gonna introduce me to your new girlfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moxxie’s reaction was instantaneous.  He was on his knees, fingers linking through the bars and eyes almost tearing up.  “Sir!  Is . . .is Millie okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, she’s waiting at the truck.  Now let’s get you outta here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped back and aimed a gun at the lock holding the cage door in place.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir, no!  They’ll hear the shot.”  Moxxie hissed.  “There’s a human in a red shirt that has the key around his neck.  Get the key!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are ya sure?  Sounds like a lotta trouble.”  Blitzo considered going with his plan anyway until he noticed a smoldering fury in Moxxie’s eyes that was uncommon to the little imp’s nervous eyes.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kill him, Blitz.”  Moxxie growled.  “You make that bastard suffer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When was the last time Moxxie had used his name instead of his polite title of ‘sir’?  Looking from Moxxie’s hard eyes to his injured body and broken tail, Blitzo's mischievous grin faded, and he nodded.  “Just him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All of them.  I don’t care if they’re good people or not.  If they’re here . . .they’re not innocent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Mox.  I’ll be back with the key.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The redshirt man was on the second story in a break room watching tv with his muddy shoes on a coffee table covered in watermark rings and beer cans littering the floor.  He barely had a chance to react before Blitzo was on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knife sank between his ribs, puncturing his lung, cutting off a scream which would have been muffled with Blitzo’s hand across his chapped lips.  The last words he heard while he drowned in blood was, “Suck it deep bitch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he returned to the kennels, he noticed the humans were heading into the barn with a pit in the center, ringed by picket fences and crates used for seats.  Most of them were in all stages of drunkenness, and many were handing money to a bookie.  It gave him an idea, but he needed to move fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Moxxie stepped from the catch, he took the keys from Blitzo’s grasp and unlocked the cage next to him, where a large dark fur body panted at them with a large pink tongue hanging from its mouth.  “We can’t leave them in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, where do they keep the gas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gas?  I think I saw some drums around back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.  Come help me when you’re done here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A series of events happened at the barn.  First, a stream of dogs ran out the back while a truck was rolled in front of the main doors.  Then a car was set against a side door and any ground exits.  Then two small figures drizzled gas and oil around the barn and over the vehicles blocking the exits.  Then a gleeful imp lit a match.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the morning, authorities notified of the massive cloud of smoke rising from the treetops would investigate - a few already knew about the dogfighting ring, having been paid off to keep mum about - and found the charred remains of the barn and the human remains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blackened bodies were in all states of panic and death.  Most were around the exits, beating at the doors while trampling each other like rats trying to flee poison gas in a hole.  In the backroom were metal cages, warped from the heat but empty of any animal or dog carcasses.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was chalked up to animal activists.  Questions were asked, fingers pointed, but no arrests were made or charges brought.  It remained the nearby town's talk, drowning out the gossip of the truck that blew through town with the driver and passengers wearing red devil masks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Moxxie, what the fuck is this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were being followed by a lumbering black dog with dark fur and brown feet and maw.  There were two little brown marks above its eyes, and its mouth hung up in a continuous pant.  When they stopped, it pushed its snout against Moxxie’s shoulder and licked the side of his face.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this is Rot Wilder.”  Moxxie patted the face mottled with scars with affection.  “He and I were cage buddies for a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Moxxie . . .I knew you swung that way, but . . .you’re married!”  Blitzo said, scandalized.  “What is Millie going to think!?””</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!  It’s not like that!  And . . .he’s an animal, sir.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, he woulda been the top.”  Blitzo sneered.  “I’ll let you introduce your prison partner to Millie yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Millie’s response to Rot after embracing Moxxie in their reunion was jubilant, “He’s adorable!  Let’s keep him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With an addition of a Rottweiler dog truck, the imps resumed their journey to Greenwood and Danny.  </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Only Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The dream was still real in the morning. Rachel woke up believing Daniel coming back was a dream until she went into the living room and saw him asleep on the couch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sleeping shirtless, all four arms bare and exposed with his narrow upper body. Sleeping on his chest, little face pillowed by the puff of fur there. Two hands cupped her diapered bottom and soft head while his other hands folded beneath his head where it rested on the couch’s arm. It was so much like she had seen him napping with Anna that it seemed natural.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna and Daniel still had their bond. It was never broken, despite his death. And now that he was back, it had resumed as it had before that night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar mote of jealousy rose in her chest. Anna would always go down easy for bedtime or a nap if it was Daniel putting her to bed. Her first smile was for him. Even her first giggle happened when he was tickling her. And he was . . .and he . . .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel didn’t like thinking about that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cooking breakfast felt safe. It was what she had done when he was alive, and it grounded her, making her feel safer.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was going to happen now? Daniel said he was back, but what did that mean when he’s a giant spider person? He can’t go to work, he can’t go out in public, nor could he ever take Anna to school or to the park like he planned before he died.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel had so many questions, and only Daniel had the answers. He always had things figured out. Usually, that thought would have reassured her, but not this time.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t right. Daniel being here isn’t right. He shouldn’t be here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything shook her to the core, but not this - not this feeling of the wrongness of this whole situation.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to burn the eggs.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was behind her. Startled, she quickly stirred the eggs, scrambled the way he liked. “S-sorry, I . . .I was thinking . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About?” He was really close now, close enough for her to know he was holding Anna and she needed a diaper change. His voice was light and friendly; Daniel was always in his best mood in the mornings.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You,” she whispered, her hands almost shaking. She could never lie to him; he knew her too well. “How are you . . .I mean, what’s going to happen to us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing is going to happen to us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But . . .Daniel, you’re different. People are going to . . .” she tried to think of a word that wouldn’t offend him. “Be concerned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a fool, Rachel,” he reached around her and took the pan off the heat. He dumped the eggs onto a waiting place. “I know I’m not normal anymore, but that’s fine. I have enough money for us to live off for years, plus some overseas accounts the lawyers don’t know about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was a lot of money. When the lawyer showed her the total of her bank accounts after Daniel died, as someone who had never owned a checking account in her life, it overwhelmed her. And if Daniel was right, and there was more money overseas, she could certainly see how they could be financially stable for many years to come.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you can quit your grocery store job,” Daniel set the plate of eggs on the table. “I don’t see why you want to work when I left you enough money to be a stay at home mother for Anna.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-sorry . . .Marcie said . . .” There was a sharp pain in her heart at Marcie’s passing, and Daniel was shooting her a warning look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling, let’s not mention that bitch’s name again, alright? She’s dead and there’s no reason to talk or think about her anymore.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How did he know she was dead?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew the answer to that question, and it made her feel sick with dread. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daniel dismissed her apology and sat down with Anna on his lap. He scooted the hands out of her inquisitive hands’ reach. “So you’ll call them up and tell them you quit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now.”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitated, biting her lower lip, not moving to obey but too afraid to speak against him. Why did it bother her to quit her job? She didn’t have any friends at work, and she was always nervous while she was there. Why was she hesitant now to do as Daniel said now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to change Anna. She has a dirty diaper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do that,” Daniel said tersely. “You make that call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel wouldn’t have been brave enough to tell Mrs. Watkins that she would no longer be coming into work if not for the motivation provided by Daniel standing a few yards away changing Anna’s diaper.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure? Did you get a job somewhere else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I . . .I’m going to spend more time with my daughter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel, if it’s the hours, we can work something out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not the hours. I just want to take care of my daughter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daniel had told her what to say, and she repeated it verbatim. “I appreciate your concern, but I can’t come to work anymore. Thank you for giving me a job, but I no longer need it.”    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made a hangup motion with a free hand, and she did so. Seeing Daniel smile at her would have made her feel better, but his teeth were different, and the face was all wrong. He had been a handsome man before, and his smile was safe, but with those sharp teeth, it was something different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hours slid by, and most of it Daniel spent with Anna while she kept house. She cleaned the kitchen, did laundry, and vacuum while he cared for their daughter. When she couldn’t see him, hearing only his voice, everything was normal. However, seeing his brown fur, six eyes, and four hands handling Anna made a worm of revulsion crawl through her stomach.  </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, Anna didn’t seem to care. Squealing happily with arms and legs splayed as Daniel lay on the floor and held her high above his face. Her grin was so wide, drool dribbled from her cherub lips, threatening to drip into his face. Chubby legs kicked in delight as Daniel airplane noises to entertain her. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He loves her so much and is so good with her. Has Anna ever laughed for me like that?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knock at the door. Instantly, Daniel sat up, lowering Anna to his chest, and stared in the direction of the door with hard eyes. “Who the fuck is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t know . . .” Rachel whispered. She stood on tiptoe and peered through the kitchen window above the sink. Derrick was standing in a thick coat and heavy boots. He was holding an old toolbox in hand. “It’s Derrick. He’s come over to fix the heater. . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like a piece of ice sliding down her back. Every hair stood on end in premonition, moments before her arm was grasped, and she was turned around. All six - no, eight eyes, he had two extras at the apples of his cheeks - glared into her soul. Two of his arms held a confused Anna on his hip, one hand, Rachel, by the arm, and a fourth was held at a dangerous angle as if in any moment it was going to deliver a blow.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the fuck is Derrick, Rachel?” His voice was covered in ice.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s from work,” Rachel whispered, knowing she was in serious trouble now.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the fuck is he to you, Rachel?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was bad. Very bad.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no one . . .” Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave her a shake and shoved her against the sink hard enough to bark her skin on the edge. “So you’d invite just no one to the fucking house, Rachel!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This went beyond mad now. He only used her name at the end of every sentence when he was absolutely livid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry . . .the heater is broken and he said he could fix it . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you fucking him, Rachel!? Are you!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” She cried and covered her face in time. His hand glanced off her arm, not hard enough to leave a bruise, but still stung.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve only been dead for three goddamn months and you’re already hooking up with some deadbeat grocer!?” He grabbed her by the hair, bringing her face close to his. All eight eyes glowed into hers, and his breath was warm on her face. “If not for me, you’d be some trailer trash cleaning lady for the fucking twats too lazy to clean their own homes! And this is what you do after I’m dead!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll tell him to go away! Please!” She yelped as he hauled her out of the kitchen by the hair.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn right you are,” Daniel hissed. “You tell him to fuck off and never come back, alright? And . . .Rachel, honey, don’t you fucking dare tell him about him, got it?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I won’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’ll kill him. You know I will, Rachel, alright. His corpse will bleed out on the yard and it’ll be your fucking fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna was beginning to cry, and Daniel jiggled her to comfort her. He shoved Rachel towards the door and carried Anna into the hall where he would be out of sight and hear every word.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel wiped her eyes on her sleeves and smoothed her hair. It was a practiced skill by now, and she put on a pleasant grin as she answered the door.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derrick’s grin faded at the sight of her. “Rachel . . .are you okay? Have you been crying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay. I got a cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, then it’s good I come by then to fix your heater.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No . . .it’s okay. It’s working now. I’m so stupid . . .I forgot to plug it in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disappointment clouded his face. “Well, that’s good. Maybe you have something else I can fix for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m good. I don’t want you to get sick too.” Her arm was hurting from where Daniel had hit her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, well, I’ll see you at work . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I quit work,” she said, crossing her arms, rubbing the pained one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did? Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to spend more time with my daughter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s fine . . .I don’t really need to work and . . .I don’t think I was doing a good job there anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derrick rubbed the back of his head. “Mrs. Watkins likes you. I know she can be a bit harsh sometimes, but I think it's because she’s worried about you living all the way out here alone with your baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay . . .”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not okay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure? Rachel, if you need help you can call me. I’ll leave you my number.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need help.”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please help me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Derrick stared at her, trying to read her eyes, but she had them lowered from his. “Alright, I’ll be going now. If you need help, let me know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. Goodbye.”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t leave me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She closed the door and never felt so alone before. A part of her wanted to run after Derrick, jump into his truck, and go away with him. However, she knew better than that. Daniel would be on them within seconds. Daniel would kill Derrick and made her deeply regret it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel, come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want to. You’re going to hurt me.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned away from the door to see Daniel beckoning her. Anna was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Anna?” She stayed by the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I put her down for a nap. Come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How far would she get if she fled through the door right now? Judging from Daniel’s long, long legs, not far at all. She approached him, trembling, hoping whatever he would do to her wouldn’t be too bad. “I’m sorry . . .I’m so sorry . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took her by the shoulders and led her into the bedroom. He didn’t bother turning on the light. There was a jingle of a belt being undone with his lower hands.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had never beaten her with a belt before, and she couldn’t stop shaking. “Daniel . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh, just take off your pants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daniel . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Rachel. I love you so much that I would rather kill you than let you be with another man.” There were another jingle and a whisper. He wasn’t taking off his belt; he was opening his pants.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Horror and revulsion crawled through her stomach like maggots on a carcass.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to wait until tonight, maybe make this a bit more romantic, but I think you need to be reminded to whom you belong to.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands shook as she pushed her pajama bottoms down her thighs and knees.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Underwear too, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-Daniel . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” There was a warning in his voice. She was already on thin, thin ice right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are . . .will this . . .will this hurt? You’re different . . .now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a little?” His hands squeezed her shoulders so tight, she winced. “And maybe it needs to hurt so the lesson will sink in, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cupped her chin and tilted her head up to see her face. He wanted an answer. She gave him the only answer she knew was safe. “Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ceiling had a water stain, likely from a bad rainstorm from before she bought the house. She hadn’t noticed it before. It looked like something had thrown coffee at the ceiling; maybe they were trying to hit a fly with a full coffee mug?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chestnut fur filled her vision, blocking out the stained ceiling. Fur brushed her thighs, and she held her breath and braced herself. It was a familiar sensation, but it was no less intrusive . . .or painful.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daniel had been gentle in the past, but then she had been more receptive to him when he was human. His being different now was . . . terrifying. Not that Daniel before hadn’t scared her when he did this, but this was on another level. His movements started mechanically, almost monotonous, until he moaned and quickened the pace. This was a good sign. If he was enjoying this, then he would be less mad when he finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Rachel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She believed him. It was in his voice which was now gentle and soft, no longer with its dangerous edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Daniel.” And she did love him, she told herself. He was good to her when he was in a good mood.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finished, he rose off her, readjusted his clothes, and said, “No one else, but me. Right, Rachel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only you, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I am not lying when I say I rather see you dead than with someone else, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, now we got that straightened out then we can go back to being happy together.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go clean yourself up while I make some lunch.” He patted her knee and left the bedroom, buckling his belt.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel took a shower, running it as hot as she could stand. It eased the ache between her legs and made her feel cleaner, as if the sharp spray was beating off the touch of fur from her skin.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she couldn’t tell if she was crying or it was the water streaming down her face.        </span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Prison</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rachel cleaned the house; she swept and mopped the kitchen and bathroom, vacuumed the living room and Anna’s nursery, and did laundry. What she didn’t do was go back into the bedroom - she tried to go inside to clean, but seeing the bed brought tears to her eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After bundling up Anna, he took her outside for a walk. Rachel wanted to speak up and tell him it was too cold to take Anna out, but he must know better than she. Thankfully, he wasn’t gone long. He returned with a rosy cheek and tired Anna with a large bag.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where did he get the bag from? In fact, she realized there was no vehicle parked outside. Derrick would have mentioned it as she didn’t own a car. So where did Daniel park his car? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put Anna down for a nap and opened the duffle bag on the kitchen table. It was the usual collection of weapons: handguns, a few knives, a taser, and even a collapse asp. Before he died, he would check them, clean the guns, sharpen the knives, charge the battery, and oil the asp so it could slide with the slightest flick of the wrist. There were a few burner phones and a laptop among his collection, but what was new, catching her eye, was the large leather-bound book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had a bright blue cover with golden stencils of a crescent moon and a circle with intricate designs. On the spine was a sizeable red opal that winked in the light. It was so big and bulky looking, she wondered how strong Daniel had to be to carry it with all the other items and Anna.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The surface had a texture of leather to her fingers, but it was smooth like plastic. Entrance, she lifted the cover to see numerous runes and star-like sigils cover the pages.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t touch that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was shoved so hard she hit the counter, banging her elbow, hitting the funny bone. Landing on the floor, she looked up to see Danny shoving the book into his duffle bag before turning to her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel cringed against the corner, bracing herself for another blow. Instead of striking her, he pulled her to him, enfolding her into a tight embrace with all four arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby, you can’t just touch my things,” he stroked her hair, pressing her face against his torso. “That book . . .it’s important. It’s our future together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I don’t understand,” she muttered into his shirt, confused but glad he wasn’t angry with her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to understand. Just don’t touch my things, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-okay, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised her hand to see the bruise flowering on her arm where he had struck her earlier. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s just . . .the thought of you with another man just . . .it upsets me to think of you with another man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-it wasn’t like that, Daniel,” she pleaded. “I wouldn’t do that! He only came over to fix the heater!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so damn naive … it’s cute,” he said as he tapped the tip of her nose with a claw tip. “Letting a strange man into your house is the same as letting him into your pants. He does you a favor, then he’s going to expect one in return. And what do you have to offer him other than . . .your ass?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel knew Derrick wasn’t like that. He had always been pleasant and polite to everyone, man, woman, and child he met. Rachel hadn’t sensed he had any ulterior motives behind his offer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, Daniel was right in that she was naive. Women have been assaulted in their own homes by men they let inside. Maybe Daniel was right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deep down, she knew it wasn’t so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before, it had been easier to go along with whatever Daniel said, but now … everything was different. Not only because Daniel was different, but she was different too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it terrified her!!! What if Daniel saw the change in her, and it made him angry? That was one stable thing that hadn’t changed - an angry Daniel was a scary and painful thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was hugging her again, and with no other option she could see, she hugged him back. She remembered a time when his hugs and touches made her feel good, safe, but she felt trapped and used as she experienced beneath him in the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby, I missed smelling your hair,” he breathed into her ear. “You always washed it with Dove.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like clean scents,” Rachel replied. “That’s why I use cotton, linen, and lake scented cleaners.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you for that, Rachel,” Daniel released her and stepped back. “You need to clean the bedroom before tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had he noticed her avoiding it!? “I will, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have extra sheets?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, they’re in the linen closet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Change the sheets and wash the ones from the bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did he want her to wash the sheets? “I will, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good girl. You and I are going to talk tonight about something important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” She had a dark feeling she wouldn’t like it. Did he …. remember that night!? The night he died and what she had done!? No, no, he didn’t. If he did …he wouldn’t be speaking so gently to her now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you tonight.” He kissed her forehead and returned to the table to check his gear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel forced herself to go back to the bedroom. It was just a room, she told herself. She had slept in here for three months, and it wasn’t any different now. But … it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stains on the sheet told her it was different now. It was no longer safe. Daniel didn’t make her feel safe anymore, but he used to.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shortly into the marriage, a man broke into their new home. Rachel had woken up with Daniel’s hand over her mouth and his hushed voice in her ear, telling her to be silent and stay in the bedroom. Downstairs, she could hear the sounds of heavy footsteps and rummaging their belongings. Then moving with the silent step of a cat on the hunt, Daniel left the bedroom. She waited with bated breath until the sound changed from the violation of their home to a fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hurried from the bedroom and downstairs. In the living room, Daniel was atop a man wearing a black hoodie and beating him. Over and over, Daniel punched the man’s head with precision at the temple and eyes. He would have beaten the man to death if Rachel hadn’t screamed. Then they called the police, who then called an ambulance for the thief. The man had suffered a fractured skull and suffered severe brain damage, if not some paralysis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What had made Rachel scream was not the sight of her husband in an altercation with an intruder but by the savage glee on Daniel’s face as he brutally beat the man. Then he glared viciously at her, furious she had interrupted him, and that terrified her before his face switched over to husbandly concern, ordering her to phone the police.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back then, she knew Daniel would protect her from anything or anyone harming her … outside of himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s going to want to do it again tonight. He’s not going to sleep on the couch again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A cold shiver sprang goosebumps across her skin, and every hair rose.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He wants me to change the sheets because he likes sleeping in a clean bed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And there was no question of her sleeping anywhere else. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He wants us to be husband and wife again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It wouldn’t be just tonight. It could be many nights or sometimes during the day, whenever the mood struck Daniel. Was this her life from now on? Living with a spider monster her dead husband had become?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It doesn’t have to be. Endure it one more time, and tonight, while he’s asleep, grab Anna and run away!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No, she couldn’t do that! Daniel would find her! And he would be SO MAD!!!!</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s different this time. Go somewhere crowded where there are a lot of people. With his appearance, he can’t just walk into a building without causing a panic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t! I just can’t!  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I have to. He killed Marcie, and he hasn’t changed! He still hurts me. And Anna isn’t safe. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Daniel sleeps heavily once he has a few drinks in him. He never does laundry, so I can pack a bag in the laundry room and warm clothes. Anna is so sleepy late at night, so I can get her out of the nursery without waking her if I'm careful. Go to the laundry room, grab the bag, and go out through the back door. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’ll take a while to walk all the way into town without a bus and cold, but I can manage it. There’s a twenty-four-hour convenience store I can wait inside until the bus runs at 5:00. Then I take the next bus to the furthest place away from here.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She had tried to leave him once before when she learned she was pregnant. Rachel had stared at the pregnancy stick in mute horror for almost an hour in the bathroom while she tried to figure out what she was going to do. Her wrist still carried the bruises from when he had grabbed her when she accidentally spilled a drink on his lap, and her back still ached when he had shoved her against the wall for forgetting something he wanted from the store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If this kept up, he was going to kill her or hurt the baby.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel waited until Daniel had gone off on one of his jobs before packing a bag and some cash she saved in a sock from when she cleaned houses for a leaving. She knew Daniel was good at finding people, so she had tried to be careful, but she wasn’t smart enough. He found her a week later in a hotel. Then the moment he came into the room, she knew he was going to kill her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, that didn’t happen. Instead of his furious glare, there were tears. She had never seen him cry . . .never thought he was capable of it. Here he was, on his knees, squeezing her hands and begging her to come home to him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daniel promised he would never lay a hand on her again, told her he had been stressed out because of work and took it out on her, and he would change his ways and be the loving husband she deserved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t keep her pregnancy to herself anymore. Breaking down, she told him she ran away because she was pregnant and was scared he would hurt the baby.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He convinced her to return with him and had kept his word of not hurting her . . .until after Anna was born.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel carried the sheets into the laundry room and put them onto wash as she usually would. Peeking to make sure Daniel wasn’t around, she reached into a cabinet and took out the suitcase she had stored when she had moved in. It was a good thing she had been doing laundry today as she had fresh, clean clothes to pack. Underwear, pants, shirts, and even a pair of shoes went into the suitcase. She even threw some clothes in for Anna and diapers. Frequently, she peeked to make sure Daniel wasn’t nearby and kept her ears pricked for his footsteps or his calling her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the bag was packed, she stored it inside the cabinet and took some clothes to the bedroom. It would make sense she was in there for so long if she was folding clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she heard the high-pitched whirring sound coming from the hall of the bedroom and nursery. Turning the corner, she almost dropped the clothes at the sight of Daniel kneeling on the floor using a power drill on Anna’s nursery door. He had the doorknob on the floor, and in its place was a keypad door lock. The only light-heartedness of this terrifying sight was Anna bouncing in her walker and watching Daniel’s work with utmost fascination.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-what are you doing!?” She cried, her hands tightening on the clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just switching out the locks,” Daniel replied as he drilled a screw home. “Want to keep my girls safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Locks . . .which locks are you changing?” Creeping horror was entwining with her spine.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This one, the bedroom, and the back and front doors.” As he moved the door to get a better look at his work, she saw it was a double-sided lock - the door can be locked from either side.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s . . .what’s the combination?” Her throat felt tight as if a hand was squeezing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, baby, you don’t need to know the combination.” Daniel gave her an affable smile. “I have all the combination numbers all of here.” He tapped his temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“B-but . . .what if I need to change Anna? What if something happens!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing is going to happen when I’m here,” Daniel replied, testing the installed latch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Realizing her mother was nearby, Anna beamed at Rachel, little feet propelling the walker towards her. However, her journey was interrupted when Daniel caught the back of the walker and drew her back. “Where are you going? Daddy needs your help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s keeping me away from Anna. He hasn’t let me hold or pick up Anna or even be alone with her since he came back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just like Daniel to consider any and all possibilities. It had been his job before he died. And he had been planning this before he came to the house - the locks didn’t magic themselves into existence.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She carried the clothes into the bedroom and realized what had changed. It wasn’t just the bedroom. It was the whole house. It was no longer a home . . .it had become a prison. And Daniel was both her husband and warden.       </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Snowstorm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was colder than the lower rings of Hell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Millie and Moxxie were curled together in the corner of the truck’s passenger seat with a big ball of black and brown fur curled across their legs. Between the dog and the blanket around them and their own bodies, they were pretty snug and warm.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, of all the vehicles they could have stolen, they got the one without a heater. Blitzo drove with a slump in his shoulders for added warmth and to keep the chill off his back. The only distraction from the mind-numbing drive and cold was the thought of what he was going to do to Danny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, he was going to yank off each of his spider arms, then gorge out each of his eight spidery eyes, and then shove all the arms up his narrow asshole! And that was just for stealing the book. There was a whole range of retribution for what he did to Loonie, to Mille, and to Moxxie. No one fucked with his family - employees. No one!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone on the seat beside him began vibrating the IMP ad chime. Blitzo checked the caller id and answered it by the fourth ring. On the other side of the seat, both Millie and Moxxie began to stir.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Blitzo snapped into the phone.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blitz, Stolas has been coming by the office,” Loona said, sounding better since her nose healed. “I keep telling the horny bastard you’re out, but I don’t think he’s going to buy it for much longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Blitzo grunted. “Look, tell him I’m sick . . .no, don’t do that, the fuck would show up in a nurse’s outfit to ‘cure’ me. Fuck . . .look, tell him I’ll call him later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much later? Look, Blitzo, how soon are you gonna get the book back? The little spider smokes these nasty cigarettes and it’s giving me a headache.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m working on it, honey. I just need time . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, time is running out. Hurry up and . . .just come home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The call disconnected, and Blitzo sighed, shoving it back into his pocket. From the corner of his eye, he watched Millie and Mixxie settle back to sleep. Rot opened his mouth wide and gave a tongue lolling yawn before laying his head on Millie’s knee and went back to sleep. Blitzo wished he could join them under the blanket and even that oversized mutt too.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t going as he had hoped. He wasn’t expecting a tearful reunion as he anticipated her tears and even being afraid of him, but not this . . .this . . .dread he experienced from her. Ever since she saw him installing the new locks, he knew she had been planning to leave him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And sure enough, he found evidence of it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, Rachel, dear sweet, sweet Rachel isn’t as clever she hoped to be with him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was wise to keep her separate from Anna. She had run off with their daughter before, and as much as he had hoped she wouldn’t try it again so soon after their reunion, she had already made plans for it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When would she learn? How was he going to teach her that running away from him was impossible? He’d always find her. Not even his death stopped him from finding her again.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel was silent as a ghost for the rest of the day and into the evening hours as she cleaned the house from top to bottom. Cleaning was her coping mechanism; she cleaned when she was scared, upset, or confused. He found it a valuable trait of hers that she made herself useful and valuable when upset. While she cleaned, he played with Anna.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t fear him at all. Her hands reached for him when he picked her up, peering curiously up at his numerous eyes. He tried to teach her to call him Daddy but only got a pleasant ‘Da’ sound from her by the time he put her down for bed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He locked the door and made sure the panel slotted home before heading for the kitchen where Rachel was washing dishes after their early dinner. “Rachel . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She froze like a doe caught in the headlights. “Yes, Daniel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s talk in the bedroom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an unmistakable wave of disquiet rippled through her petite frame. “Okay, Daniel, I’m almost finished.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now.” He didn’t bother adding an edge to his tone. Rachel never made him ask twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a ghost, she was dressed in a white nightgown with pajama bottoms for warmth. The wind was howling outside as a snowstorm brewed in. Thankfully, he was able to get the heater fixed . . .and thinking of it made an ember of fury burn hot again.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he was honest with himself, he never truly believed Rachel would have gotten with another man so soon after him, but she was too good to pass up for any man. Sweet, pretty, submissive, and could clean and cook, she was born ahead of her time and would have made any man before the liberal feminism took hold in America, taking the woman out of the kitchen and home. Now that Danny didn’t believe women couldn’t handle themselves as well as men - he met more than his fair share of women who were decent fighters and could fire a gun as well as he, but he wasn’t attracted to them. No, the ideal woman for him was Rachel . . .if only she would get her shit together.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused at the door and let her go inside first, then he closed and locked the door behind him. The panel slid home with an audible click behind him, and he saw her shoulders tense up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you scared of me?” He laid his lower hands on her shoulders which were as stiff as stones.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You . . .you got so mad at me today, Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did,” he said. A tremor of anger rose in him, and he considered going out to pay dear old Derrick a visit one night but dismissed the thought. It was over and done with, and Rachel was never going to see Derrick again. “But I’m not mad at you anymore so you don’t have to be scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I don’t like the locks,” Rachel’s voice was so soft and sweet, especially when she was scared. “What if there’s a fire? Or something happens?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing is going to happen while I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were planning on running away with Anna again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a short gasp from her and the silence only a rabbit hiding in the bushes from a predator could make follow. Then she whispered, “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Danny said stiffly. He moved around her to the bed where he bent down and pulled the packed suitcase she hid in the laundry room from beneath it. He dropped it onto the bed and opened it to reveal the packed clothes. “Are you going to lie to me again, Rachel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she backed away until her spine touched the wall. “I’m sorry, Daniel. Please, don’t be mad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? Sweetheart, don’t you love me? Do you hate me now because I look like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No . . .I don’t hate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you want to run away from me? Again? After everything I’ve done to come back to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could be angry, even hurt her, but that wasn’t what was called for now.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I don’t know . . .Daniel, please, please, don’t hurt me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel, baby, you can’t leave me, alright? I need you too much.” His voice cracked as he forced his own tears out through his prominent eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no! Daniel, please . . .please, don’t cry. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to go, Rachel?” He demanded, letting the tears flow free. “I’ll unlock the door for you and you can go right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t going anywhere, he knew. Firstly, there was a snowstorm; secondly, she wouldn’t leave without Anna, and thirdly, if she did try to leave. . . if there was even an infinitesimal chance she would dare take him up on his offer . . .he would hurt her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he didn’t have to. She came to him, throwing her arms around his waist and swearing she would never leave him. He held her with all four arms, like a spider wrapping up a fly to devour, and drew her with him to the bed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweetheart, I . . .I need you to prove it. You have to prove you love me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-okay, I-I will,” she whimpered, and he could read in her eyes she expected him to want sex from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, it wasn’t going to be that easy for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want us . . .to be together . . .forever.” With her sitting on the bed, he knelt as if he were going to propose to her again. With his great height, he was still on eye level with her. “And there is only one way we can make that happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand,” Rachel whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not going to be easy and may be scary,” He continued, squeezing her hands between his upper hands while his lower ones touched her knees. “You’re going to have to kill yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stared at him for a long time, and he let her process his words at her own pace. “I . . .what? Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel, when you die, you’ll go to the afterworld, like me. Your body will become different, but after that we’ll have eternity together.” He held her face with both hands and smiled warmly. “It’s alright, I know of a painless way to do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daniel, I . . .I don’t want to die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither did I, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lower lip was trembling, and a new tear rolled down her cheek. “But the . . . the Bible says suicide is sin. I’ll go to Hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you won’t. It’s just the afterlife. You’ll die and go into the afterlife. I’ll find you and we’ll be together forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Anna? We can’t!” Rachel moaned, horror-struck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, Anna is too young. We’ll take care of her together until she’s old enough to kill herself too. You, me, and Anna, all together forever. Just a happy family for eternity. Isn’t that something you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was squeezing her hands now, hard enough to make her wince, and he let her go. No, he couldn’t press her too hard. Danny knew from the beginning convincing her wouldn’t be easy, and he may have sabotaged himself when he struck her earlier for Derrick’s intrusion into their marriage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I don’t know,” She whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t . . .know?” He said, this time not bothering to hide the anger from his tone. “Baby, think of everything I’ve done for you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be in that trailer busting your ass for your ungrateful slob of a mother and cleaning houses for pennies. What? You rather have married that loser Davis and be stuck in his trailer and popping out his kids like a breeder?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Daniel, no. I love you. I never wanted Davis!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he believed her on that. Davis had been Rachel’s neighbor while she was living in the trailer park with her mother. He was considered a catch since his trailer was already paid off, and he was making above minimum wage. Despite being old enough to be Rachel’s father, the balding old fuck had been courting her through her mother, hanging around their trailer so he could ogle Rachel in that tiny cramp home.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least until Danny put a stop to it. A week after meeting Rachel, he dropped her off at her home when he spied Davis sitting on her porch and having a beer with her mother. The old fuck had the audacity to flirt with Rachel and stare at her ass as she went inside. Danny’s blood boiled at the thought of another man, even one as repulsive as this one, looking at Rachel like she was a piece of meat was too much for him to swallow quietly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he left the trailer park, drove down to a gas station a quarter of a mile down the way, left his car, and walked back to the trailer park and waited until the fucker went back to his trailer. Then Danny strolled up to his trailer and knocked on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old fuck answered the door in his underwear, flab and gut hanging over the briefs. He blinked at Danny, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just want to talk about Rachel,” Danny said casually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? At 11:30 at night? What ‘bout her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to allow you to stay here as her neighbor,” Danny replied. “But you’re staying away from her home from now on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah? What? You think cuz you some uppity educated asshole you can come over here . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I can,” Danny cut him off, taking a step, bringing his face close to Davis’s with only the screen door between them. “If you continue staring at her like a she’s some cheap whore, I’m going to come back here while you’re passed out drunk, take my bowie knife, and cut out your fucking eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny opened his coat to let the oaf see the holstered Glock and the sheathed bowie knife carried with him at all times.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man opened his mouth to retort, likely to boast about his shotgun or rifle; these rednecks usually carried one or two weapons. Yet, he caught something in Danny’s eye that made him pause. He wasn’t sure what some people saw in his eyes; maybe it was the truth behind his words as Danny never made idle threats. If he said he would do something, he always did his damnedest to deliver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get off my porch,” Davis snarled and slammed the door in Danny’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that night, Davis stayed away from her trailer. Whenever Danny came around, the asshole beat a hasty retreat to his trailer with an excuse that his fictional back injury was acting up. And that left dealing with Rachel’s mother, but that was a story for another time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daniel, I can’t kill myself! I’m too scared to do that! Can’t we … Can’t we live like this until I grow old and die?” Rachel was pleading with him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have that kind of time. Even if the imps didn’t survive the bikers' trap, others could come after the book. Not to mention, hiding out in the human world presents its own challenges.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel needed time to wrap her head around this which was okay for now. He already planned for this. They would stay here for a few days then move on. There was a cabin in the mountains they could disappear to for a while - a place he had set up as a safe house which was off the grid. No one knew of it; not even his old superiors were aware of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could teach Anna how to swim in the lake. Rachel might even come to love it too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kissing Rachel’s forehead, he let the topic drop. “Alright, baby, you take time to think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I … I want a glass of water,” Rachel whined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s water in the bathroom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I need … I need Tylenol,” she was pleading with him. “My head hurts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front and back door was locked, each with a different combination. Anna was locked safely away in her nursery. And there was a snowstorm outside, which was impossible for her to traverse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After weighing all her options, he opened the door for her. “Don’t be long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He believed she had learned her lesson earlier about belonging to him and only him, but a reminder never hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel barely contained her horror until she arrived in the kitchen. Opening a drawer, she pulled out two towels and pressed her face into them to muffle her scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The terror let itself out in a long moan of despair and anguish. Rachel sagged to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably and wondering what she could do! Daniel wanted her to kill herself? Why? It didn’t make any sense!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above the kitchen sink, something black and flat levered the window open from outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sniffing, Rachel rose to her feet and washed her face, pressing cold water to her eyes to ease the redness. If he knew she was crying, it might make him angry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pssst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raised her eyes and listened. The only answer was the wind outside. Her nerves must be shot for her to be hearing things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel went to the cabinet as she might as well take two Tylenol anyway. It may help to ease whatever pains she received from Daniel later.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, pssst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking around with the pill bottle in hand, she could have sworn she heard a voice, but it had to be the wind. Fetching a glass from another cabinet, she filled it from the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, bitch, I said psst!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel dropped the glass and bottle and clasped both hands to her mouth at the sight of two large yellow eyes peering at her through the glass.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, don’t fuckin’ scream,” the voice ordered. “Now where’s your asshole husband at?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-wha- what? You mean Daniel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who else? That fucker owes me a grimoire and his broken corpse. Where is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I . . .he’s . . .he’s in the bedroom,” she whispered, so overwhelmed by the inhuman eyes she couldn’t get her wits about her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let us in and we’ll deal with ‘im.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daniel changed the locks and he won’t give me the combination.” Rachel could see the speaker was talking to her through the partial opening between the jamb and sill.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, fuck . . .alright, get me the fuckin’ book then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Book? What book?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s big and blue . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it have a moon and a circle on the cover? With a big red rock on the spine?” Rachel recalled the blue book Daniel was so protective of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! Ya seen it? We need it back.” The eyes pressed close against the windowpane as if trying to look for the book behind her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes . . .but . . .Daniel got mad when I touched it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go get it before I get mad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t . . .he’ll . . .he gets mad if I . . .if I touch his things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Correction! The book ain’t fuckin’ his! He stole it and I want it back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I can’t . . .” Fresh tears fell down her face in the face of someone else being angry with her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir, she’s scared. Let me talk to her.” There was a new voice, but it sounded smaller and with a higher pitch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Moxie, you’re up. Don’t fuck this up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A new set of large amber eyes appeared in the wind. “Miss Rachel, we need that book to go back to Hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel’s jaw dropped. “You’re . . .you’re demons!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, yeah, so is Danny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? You think he’s an angel?” The first voice said nastily. “Think about it, toots, he kills and tortures people, beats his wife, and is a thieving asshole! Where do people like that go when they die!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like the ground had opened beneath her, and she was falling. Actually, she was. She landed hard on her rear on the linoleum floor, trying to catch her breath. Danny wanted her to kill herself . . .to commit a serious sin so she . . .she would go to Hell! And become like him!  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god . . .” she moaned, covering her face with both hands.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, ya still there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I . . .he wants me to . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the bedroom, she heard, “Rachel!? What’s taking so long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart caught in her throat, and a moment of panic took hold. “J-just a minute!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel, listen, get us in and we’ll take care of him,” The second voice pleaded.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t . . .the locks,” she got to her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, got tape?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tape?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thick duct tape.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel!” Daniel’s voice was louder. He would come after her any second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hurried to a drawer and took a large roll of duct tape from it. Marcie had bought it to help her pack for Kansas. Rachel pushed it through the slot at the bottom of the door just as she heard the sounds of Daniel coming from the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red clawed like fingers pushed closed the window, and she knelt down. When Daniel appeared at the doorway, she picked up the pills that had spilled from the Tylenol bottle when she dropped it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I . . .I made a mess,” Rachel said, scooping up the pills into one hand. “I dropped it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stare was cold wind on her skin, and she continued picking up the tablets with quivering fingers.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re that upset about killing yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>More now than before.  </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I . . .Daniel, I need to think about it . . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, baby, I understand,” Daniel said, and his eyes scanned the kitchen. “It’s kinda cool in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I think it’s the water pipes.” Rachel swallowed as she dropped the last pill into the bottle.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, the pipes,” Daniel said, eyeing the window and then her. “I love you, Rachel. I know . . .I know I’m rough sometimes and I make big demands . . .but I do it all because I love you so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Daniel,” Rachel said, lowering her eyes. “I love you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was shocking was she believed Daniel loved her, and she was telling the truth that she loved him too. She was just so scared of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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